Flotsam and Jetsam
by thegreatbluespoon
Summary: Grissom is conned into looking after Ecklie's yacht for the weekend. Catherine invites the team, only after seeing him with Sofia, it's the last place Sara wants to be. GSR, I promise!
1. People Fishing

Okay, so I know that some of you may be a lil miffed about me not _ever_ finishing a story before I start a new one…but hey, at least I keep you on your toes.

Thanks to kakidoll for being the greatest beta ever, in my opinion (she's sick as hell and still did this. _That_ is a good beta.) Thanks to TDCSI for deeming this worthy for you all to see...and for being cool as all hell. Also, a giant thanks to Hamlets-pirate. Dr. Phil has major competition when it comes to you.

This is for xoxoPauxoxo, who wanted some angst from me. So, here is some for ya, mixed with a lovely dose of 'ha ha.' (Because it's _me_, people. You can not honestly expect total seriousness out of me. If you do...then you must wicked new to this site, because you have no idea how whacked in the head I am.)

* * *

"No way in hell." 

"Why not?"

"Do I honestly have to explain it?"

"Gil, you need a break and you need it badly."

"Why the hell do _I _need to take care of your stuff? If it's a break for me, then why is it that I have to baby-sit your stuff??"

"Because I just said to. What other reason do you need?"

"Preferably, one I could care about."

"Watch it, Gil." he warned.

Grissom sighed, as he knew there was no way he was going to get out of the ignorant crap that Ecklie had planned. "What am I doing?"

"I have a boat, a yacht actually," Ecklie said proudly.

"Where the hell did _you_ get a yacht?"

"Where does anyone get a yacht? Anyway, I'll need someone to watch it for a few days while some big beer blast type thing is going on over at the lake. Those teenage bastards always mess with my stuff. If you're there, then they won't."

Grissom pinched the bridge of his nose as he responded, "Have I ever told you that I hate you, Conrad?"

"On more than one occasion, Gil. Has it ever stopped me from doing what I wanted, though?"

"No." Grissom sighed loudly. Just freaking great. He already had plans for this weekend. Yes, miracles never cease…Gil Grissom had plans. He was going to the new exhibit at the museum. An exquisite new set of moths and butterflies had come in. Some were ones he already had, but he always liked to revel in the fact that he sometimes had nicer things than even a museum did. "When am I to go about doing this?"

"Leave around noon tomorrow and you should be there in time for the beer bash those asses are going to throw."

"Is there going to be anyone around that I know, at least?"

"Well…no."

"Conrad, this is ridiculous. There is no way I am getting on that boat," Grissom said defiantly.

"Yacht," Ecklie corrected.

"Whatever the hell it is. I'm not getting on it. I hate boats, you know that."

"Yacht," he corrected again. "I don't care. You need a break and I need a favor…the whole 'two birds with one stone' type of thing, you know."

"Can I bring a friend, or is this something I have to do alone?"

"Don't trash the _yacht _and you can take anyone you want."

Grissom sighed, once again knowing that this was something he was going to have to do. "This is the most idiotic request ever…but I'll go."

-----

"Hey, Gil. What's up?"

"Catherine…I really hate to ask you for a favor-"

"Oh, no. I don't even think so. The last time you asked me to do something, I couldn't taste anything for a week," she said defensively.

He rolled his eyes. "You don't have to eat anything this time, just go someplace with me."

"Just where is it that I'm going with you?" she asked cautiously.

"Ecklie has this boat that he wants me to watch for the weekend while I'm on 'vacation.'"

"I thought Ecklie had a yacht?"

"Whatever! Will you go with me so that I don't have to deal with it alone? I just want a friend out there to talk to."

"Why don't you go ask Sara? That'd make her day…and yours, I'm sure." Catherine laughed.

He sighed, "She hates me. I'm asking you to go."

"Is it just us, or may I ask someone else to go?"

"He said that so long as we don't trash the stupid thing, whoever wants to go, can."

"When do we leave?" she asked, mentally checking her schedule.

"Tomorrow at noon."

-----

It didn't take Catherine long to find her future shipmate.

"Hey, Warrick?"

"Yeah? What's up, Cath?"

"What are you doing for the weekend?"

"Uh…nothing that I know of. Why?"

"Wanna hang out on Ecklie's yacht with me and Grissom?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds like fun. Count me in." He smiled at the thought of it.

"Invite whoever, it doesn't matter so long as we don't wreck the thing."

-----

Warrick went out on a search of his own. Damn straight it would be nice to hang out with Catherine the whole time out there, but he might as well have a crazy time too.

Walking into the break room, he found his friend. "Nicky, my boy. What are you doing this weekend?"

"Greg and I were going to a game with his cousin. Why?"

"You want to hit up Ecklie's yacht instead?"

Nick's eyes lit up. "Party at Ecklie's expense? Hell yes. I'll go tell Greg."

-----

"Greg?"

"I'm not helping you." He responded quickly.

"No, it's nothing like that. Warrick somehow got permission to hang out on Ecklie's yacht for the weekend. You want to cancel the game and hang out there?"

"Sure!" he said excitedly. "Mitch cancelled on us anyways. Something about his dog eating a skunk."

"Cool, then. We leave tomorrow at like noon or something. Invite whoever you know won't crash the thing."

"Anyone?"

"Yeah, Greg, anyone." Nick smiled, knowing just whom Greg would invite.

-----

Grissom and Catherine stood on the dock waiting for the other's (only one other as far as Grissom knew) to arrive.

Nick showed up first, confusing Grissom.

"Nick, why are you here?"

"Warrick invited me and Greg. Said something about a party on Ecklie's boat."

"It's a yacht." Grissom corrected. "And I invited Catherine…and she invited Warrick. That's all I knew about."

"Well, he invited us and Greg invited-"

"HEY!" Greg yelled, cutting off Nick as he made his way towards the small group.

"Hey, Greg!"

As soon as Greg made his way to the dock, Warrick pulled up…bringing with him someone that Grissom didn't want to have to face.

"Warrick, there is no way I am getting on that boat!" Sara yelled. "You told me we were going to the body farm. What the hell is this?"

Everyone looked at their own inviter and, eventually, all ended up looking at Grissom.

"Well, looks like we're all guarding the stupid _yacht_ this weekend. Everyone go grab a room. By the size of this thing, I'm sure there are plenty for the bunch of us."

Everyone but Grissom and Sara made their way into the yacht rather quickly to stake claims on the room of their choice.

"Why aren't you running in with the rest of them?" Grissom asked.

"Because I really don't want to do this…and because I have no clothes with me for the time here," she said.

"Oh, well, I'll gladly take you home."

"Excuse me, Grissom?"

"I meant so you could pack," he said quickly. "So you can get all the things you'll need."

"I'll be fine on my own." She turned and headed to the car.

"You're coming back…right?" he called after her.

"Why the hell not? Perfect opportunity to piss off Ecklie." She half-smiled.

-----

When Sara got back, Grissom was out on the dock again.

"What are you doing out here?" She asked.

"I figured I'd help with your bags, and there are only two rooms left. I figured I'd let you take the one you want out of the two of them."

"Gee, how honorable," she said as she moved past him.

Yup, she was still pissed.

Of course, it's not like it wasn't understandable. He did completely understand why she was pissed. Fucking Sofia just had to go and make a scene.

-----

Sara had been in the break room when she heard _that_ laugh coming down the halls. It was the laugh that one would only hear in the halls when Sofia was overdoing it for Grissom.

Just as Sara turned to look away, (because why bother looking at someone else capturing your man's heart?), she caught, out of the corner of her eye, and incredulous event taking place.

Whorebag McBitchface (as Sara so politely referred to her as in her mind) kissed Grissom on his cheek before she turned to leave for a case interview.

Grissom turned to head back to his office just in time to see Sara in shock. He knew what she'd seen, or thought she'd seen, and also knew that she was beyond the point of pissed.

-----

"Sara…can we talk?" he asked.

"Sorry, I have a room to pick out," she said as she brushed past him.

* * *

So? You like it, or do you hate it? 

Reviews are _the_ absolute best way to let me know. None of that funky PM business either, people!

thegreatbluespoon


	2. Can We Switch?

So...I made a little progress on those stories that haven't been worked on in, like, months. Only about 4 lines in them now, but it's progress, people!

Kakidoll is in a kind of 'am I dying/am I alive?' state right now, so I thank my good 'ol pal TDCSI for going over this chapter for me.

Um...Oh! Reviews were badass. I loved them and you should review this again. Don't worry about forgetting to. I'll be sure to remind you at the end. : )

Oh, and shout outs go to my new stalker. She knows.

* * *

Sara rolled her eyes and let out a big sigh. "Not even cool, you guys." 

"What? You're the two that stood outside instead of grabbing rooms when Griss said to. Not our fault. Besides…we kinda figured you'd like to be in the room right next to him."

"I hate all of you. A lot."

"Why? What's going on?" Grissom asked as he made his way down the hall of rooms.

"Sara is mad because she has to share a bathroom with you since your rooms connect." Catherine didn't even try to hide the grin on her face as she answered him.

Grissom's face went a little pink at the thought of sharing an intimate setting with Sara. (To him, it was intimate. The _yacht_ might be friggin' huge…but the bathroom he was to be sharing was friggin' small. ) "I, uh, it's…fine. It'll be fine, I'm sure."

Sara muttered something about quite possibly torching the ship and threw her bags on to her bed. "This...this is crap." She said and shut her door behind her.

"Well, Sara's pissed."

"Good call, jackass."

"Look, she'll get over it soon enough," Catherine said as she and Grissom made their way up to the deck to take in the view.

"You think you could…switch rooms with me, Cath?" He asked in a pleading tone.

"Hell no!" she said incredulously. "Look, helping you out has never been a problem till now, but did you see the room I snagged up? You're on your own with her, Gil. Sorry."

---

"No."

"Please? Warrick…you owe me one anyways. Actually, you owe me about seven, but that's not my point. Look, if you switch with me, then you'll be able to see out the porthole. I got the good view out of mine." She bargained.

"First, the only reason I _owe_ you is because of a technicality. There is no way any of us could have known Ecklie was going to walk in the room right then. Second, did you see the room I got? It's right across from Catherine's. I got the best view on the boat." He smiled and walked away.

"Dick." Sara muttered as she went in search of Nick.

---

Nick's never ceasing laugh at her question made her turn to Greg for help.

"Greg, you know better than anyone how much I can't stand that man right now. I never ask you for anything."

"Bogus. Yesterday you asked me to get you a sandwich from the break room. The day before that, you asked me to sign in all of our evidence so you could pee. Just last week you made me stop at-"

"I get it! Neither of you are going to help me out?"

"No. You and Grissom need to get over your problems you've got going right now and just deal with the way the rooms are. It's not like it can be that bad. Just make a schedule for which of you gets the bathroom and when. Simple."

"I hate you both. No one else has to share a bathroom _and_ we're all the way at the end of the hall. He better not snore..." She stomped off, finishing the rest of her sentence under her breath.

---

"So…I guess…this is how it's going to be?" he asked nervously.

"Yeah." She sighed.

"Are you okay with the room you got? You could have mine if you wanted." He offered.

"I've already learned to be fine with the way things are, Grissom," she said and went to join the others on deck.

Grissom sighed. He knew what she'd seen and had done nothing but regret it ever since.

They were both very bright, very beautiful women that he cared about…it's just that he cared about one a hell of a lot more than the other.

He wanted nothing to do with Sofia romantically, but she never seemed to get that hint…even after her clearly told her that after a certain dinner that convinced her to stay.

He mentally told himself that if there was only one thing he accomplished with his time on the _yacht_ that it would be telling Sara that he wanted _her_, not Sofia.

---

He went up to meet with the rest of the group to go over some things on a list Ecklie left to make sure no one was maimed, killed…or maimed or killed anyone else.

"No eating peanut butter on this _yacht_ or we will be in serious crap with Ecklie," he started, "no sex in the champagne room…whatever that means. No parties on this _yacht_. There are plenty of them around you, go pester and get trashed with someone else. The employed will quickly become the unemployed if there are any fires on this _yacht_."

"Jesus, Griss…he must think you're a party animal or something." Greg laughed.

"No, he just knows that I invited Catherine to come along with me." Grissom explained.

That didn't hit Sara well. He had invited Catherine to stay a few days with him alone on a yacht? She'd never noticed before that he and Catherine had a thing. What the hell was this all about?

"Everyone get it? No fires, no alcohol, no sex, no peanut butter." Grissom repeated.

"What if they're all together?" Nick joked.

"Nice. That just earned you the right to cook for everyone tonight. This thing was only stocked with enough food to last me and Catherine, but since there are way more of us, someone needs to go shopping. I have the money, so who's going with?" Grissom replied.

"Not it!" came from everyone but Catherine.

"Well, Cath, it looks like you going with me." Grissom laughed.

"Hell no. She'll end up buying chick food. Take Sara," Warrick said.

"Why wouldn't I get chick food?" Sara asked, obviously offended.

"Because…you're Sara."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"You are _not_ like Catherine at all. You're more like one of the guys. It's not an insult, Sara."

"That's crap. Someone else can go." She said, not really wanting to be in a car with Grissom.

"Sara, its not really a big deal. Lets just go get some food before the stores close." Grissom said, really wanting to be in a car with Sara.

Sara sighed and walked off towards the car, followed by Grissom.

"So…you think they'll figure out we made sure their rooms were together?" Catherine asked.

"Nah. Sara's too pissed at him and he's in too much shock from the thought of it." Warrick laughed.

---

About 10 minutes into the trip, Sara still hadn't said anything to Grissom and he was taking that, correctly, as a bad sign.

He decided that straight up telling her that Sofia was out of her gourd for thinking that she had a chance with him probably wasn't a good idea…so he tried easing it into the conversation.

"I'm not screwing Sofia."

So much for easing it in…

"Excuse me?" Sara asked. "Where the hell did that come from?"

"Sara, I know what you saw at the lab the other day, but I am telling you right now that there is nothing going on between Sofia and myself. Nothing romantic at all."

"And _why_ do you feel the sudden need to inform _me_ about this? Shouldn't you be telling her?"

"I have…on more than one damned occasion. I think she likes to make you jealous, actually."

Sara scoffed and asked, "why the hell would it make me jealous to see you with her?"

"Well…because…well, you and I-"

"We're here." Sara pointed out the store; cutting off Grissom's best attempt so far at telling her what was up.

---

"…and Nick wants some of these." She said, dropping what Grissom assumed to be the world's largest bag of gummy worms into the cart. "Greg wants some root beer for when they aren't drinking actual beer. Warrick…" she faded out as she continued on shopping.

Grissom hadn't really said anything while they'd been in the store. He had been spending his time watching Sara. Watching her movements, like her bending and reaching for things. Good freaking Lord…

"Grissom?" she asked.

Great. She'd been talking to him and he'd been zoning out on her ass. That was really just great. "Yeah, Sara?"

"I asked if there was anything special you wanted while we were here. We got everything we needed and what everyone else wanted," she said and pointed at the nearly overflowing cart.

"Uh…do you know if they have any limes?"

She raised an eyebrow at him and asked, "Seriously, Grissom?"

"Yeah. I like limes," he answered with a shrug.

"There's a big 'ol bag in the cart already. They all like them with their beers. Anything else you missed while you were staring at me?"

His eyes went wide.

"Is there anything else you would like while we're here?" she asked very slowly with a knowing smirk on her face.

"I…there's, if…I-"

"I got some almonds. I like to eat them while I read. Do you like nuts?" she tried helping him out. No matter how much she just wanted to push him over the side of the _yacht_, he was still damned adorable when he stuttered like he was.

"Uh, nuts? Yeah. I…I like them."

"Well?"

"What?" He looked confused.

"Do you want to get some? Would you like something else?"

"I like almonds too, but mostly pecans," he said.

"I like them too. Go get some and we can switch if you want. I'll be at the register."

---

If the ride to the store had been awkward, then there were positively no words to describe the situation on the way back the _yacht_.

He had been watching her. Staring at her, really…and she had caught him.

But she didn't seem pissed about it. Of course, she didn't seem like she was yhe happiest person about it…but she obviously was _not_ pissed about it.

Just what the hell did that mean?

* * *

Ha...nuts. The next chapter is a really angsty SOB, so watch out. 

You should go do that review thing. It's really not all that hard.

thegreatbluespoon


	3. Limes

I'm so glad you all seem to like this story so much. The reviews are keeping me laughing.

Thug love goes out to TDCSI for kicking ass in general and for going over this since Kim is still out of service.

Be warned that the end of this chapter is probably going to make you angry at me...especially since I don't have 4 written yet and it'll probably take forever and a day for me to do so.

* * *

"Took you two long enough," Nick joked as he helped grab some bags.

"You know how long it takes to get between the store and this damn boat?"

"Ecklie would shit if he heard you call it a boat."

"Ask me if I care."

"Whatever. Apparently it's just under three hours to get back. We thought we were going to have to send a search party out for you two." He joked again.

"Nice, Nick," Sara said.

Nick winked at Sara and took his bags on deck.

Greg came out to help and laughingly said, "Jeez, you two. We thought we were going to have to send out a search party or something. You sure took long enough."

"So we've heard," Sara said through gritted teeth.

You know, it would be so much easier to not be mad at someone, or to just be completely indifferent about any situation at all, if there were no one else around being complete dicks about every time you and that someone were gone for more than a whopping .5 seconds together.

"Um, sorry?" Greg said. "I was just joking, you know." He grabbed some bags and ran up to the yacht.

"Sara?"

She sighed, "What, Grissom?"

"I'm sure they're just joking." He smiled.

"And why do you think I even care?" She grabbed the last bag and turned to walk away but stopped to look back at Grissom over her shoulder. "I don't, you know. Not like we were doing anything but shopping. Not like we'd _ever_ be doing anything other than shopping. They all know that just as much as I do, Griss."

If she wouldn't have walked off before he could have said anything, he eventually would have mustered up the courage to ask her to go for a walk with him around the lake so they could talk…but 'eventually' wasn't going to do in this situation, just like it hadn't done in any situation that had come before it.

Anytime he was going to 'eventually' do something about Sara, whether it be romantically or not, he never got around to it. Ever.

Well, there was the one time he went to her apartment because Ickie Ecklie had told him to, but…does that even count? It was a technicality.

Whatever. Mostly the cause for the nothingness was borne out of fear (including that one time, because would_ you _want Ickie riding _your_ ass all damn day?), but nevertheless, things never got done when it came to her.

So he sighed and took his bags inside.

What had just happened? She wasn't mad at him while they were at the store and she had caught him overtly staring at her. Now, around everyone else, she was back to hating him.

Was it the fact that they were around others that was making her act the way she was?

He was damn sure going to try and find out.

-----

"Nick. Nick, slow down," he warned.

Nick laughed maniacally and said, "I'm not even going that fast."

"You're going fast enough."

Why Grissom allowed himself to be talked into allowing the others to take the _yacht _out on the lake was beyond him.

Well, not really. The fact that Sara stuck her bottom lip out at him was pretty much the deciding factor…and Greg was going to get his ass royally kicked for whispering in her ear to do so.

"Nick…seriously. You really need to slow down," he warned again.

"Griss, I'm not going to wreck it, so just calm down."

"This is a big ass yacht, Nick. It doesn't turn very quickly, so watch what you're doing."

Nick scoffed, "I know what I'm doing. It's not like I've never done this before."

"When have_ you _ever driven a _yacht_ before?" Grissom asked disbelievingly.

"Okay, so I've never done this before, but it's not like it's hard."

"Shut up and take us back. We've been out for over an hour and the deal was for _one_ hour."

"Gil, stop being a killjoy!" Catherine yelled from the front of the yacht.

"I don't care what I'm being. Take it back," he said and went below deck.

"What the heck is his problem?" Warrick asked.

"Who cares?" Sara said, "Just do what he says before he goes off, Nick."

"Fine. Are we all drinking tonight?"

"You all can, not me," Sara said.

"Why not? We're on Ecklie's yacht, partying. What better excuse is there to get trashed, Sar?"

She laughed. "I'll pass, thanks." The only person that knew about her reasons was Grissom –assuming he hadn't said something to Catherine and she, in turn, hadn't ran her mouth to, well, _everyone_ else in the lab.

"You get the limes?"

"Like we would forget the limes you guys hounded us about for an hour before we left," Grissom said as he came back up to join everyone else, apparently calmer than before.

"And like we would forget about the limes you guys made sure to mention in between everything we wrote down on the list of things to buy at the store," Sara joked. "Of course we bought the limes. A serious overabundance of them, to be exact."

"Well, you know, Sar…where I'm from, whoever isn't drinking, is cutting," Nick informed her.

"Really? Well, isn't that nice?" she joked. "You all think I'm going downstairs to cut up all those limes?"

"Not all of them. Of course not all of them; save some for the nights ahead."

"That's still a ridiculous amount of limes!" she objected.

"I'll-"

"I'd be more than happy to help you." Grissom was going to offer his aide, but Greg cut him off…that bastard.

"Aw. Thanks, Greg." Sara smiled.

"Uh, Greg?"

"Yeah, Griss?"

"Can I see you for a second…over there…by the thing…there?"

"What?" Yeah, Greg was confused.

"The thing, Greg! There!" he pointed over to nothing. "Oh, just come here!" Grissom yelled and startled everyone.

Greg walked over to Grissom, slowly, and Grissom grabbed hold of his arm…hard. Greg almost squeaked out in pain, but Grissom whispered, "make a noise and I _will_ give you something to cry about," as he walked him to a vacant corner.

"Jesus, Grissom! What the hell?!" Greg asked, rubbing his arm.

"You are _not_ going downstairs with Sara. No way in holy hell are you going down there with her."

"What? Why?"

"Because I am, dumbass." With that said, Grissom turned back to the group and escorted Sara downstairs to the yacht's kitchen.

-----

"I thought you were going, Greg?"

"I was…until Grissom went all apeshit on my arm. Look! It's already bruising!" Greg exclaimed.

Catherine looked up at the sky and laughed, "God? Why are you screwing with all of us? Just let 'em do it already!"

Everyone above deck drank to that one.

-----

"I thought Greg was going to help me. Why are you?" Sara asked.

Grissom stuttered out, "Greg…he, uh…had a change of heart."

"Yeah, sure." She said unbelievingly.

"Really. He said that, once he'd thought about it, it seemed like a good chance for you and I to talk, so why not let us have that chance. What a sweet guy, huh?"

"What kind of crap are you trying to pull, Grissom?" she asked as she pulled out the knives…obviously adding just the right amount of emphasis to her question.

"I uh…don't know what you're talking about." He laughed nervously. "Really, I don't."

"Bull. I saw you and Greg. You threatened him or something. He wanted to come down here with me and you made him stay up there so that you could come instead. You're being ridiculous. Why?"

"I didn't," he said innocently.

"I'll cut you."

"I wanted to talk to you and this really did seem like a great time to do it." He confessed quickly.

"God. You know, you would make a shitty Mob man. You cave awfully fast." She rolled her eyes and laughed. "Like I would actually cut you."

Grissom laughed. "Honestly, I wouldn't put it past you."

They both laughed at that –a good first step.

"Look, Grissom, let's just cut up some of these and get back up there. Okay?" she said as she grabbed up some of the many limes and handed him some.

She was trying to get the job done and get out of there –shit…a step backwards.

"You… you don't want to talk?" he asked.

"It's not that, it's just…okay, it is that." She laughed nervously.

"Why, may I ask?"

"Because there are things you'll end up finding out about me that I'd really rather you didn't," she admitted as she began cutting.

She was back to talking –ha ha, a step forward again!

He laughed a little at that. "I think you may be the one being ridiculous now, Sara. I'd like to find out anything about you that I could, regardless of what it is."

"You wouldn't like me for these things. They're stupid things and I hate myself for them."

"Please tell me." He asked, putting a hand on hers to stop her and, hopefully, get her to actually look at him.

She sighed. "I pretty much abhor a person that I've never even really talked to before…or allowed myself to talk to."

"That…is kind of harsh. Don't you think?"

"Yes. That's why I don't like myself for it," she said.

"Then why? Why do you hate them so badly? Why don't you talk to them?"

"I hate her because it's more than obvious, regardless of what _he_ says, that she has his heart. The heart that I want more than anything."

Never before in his life considering himself an actual genius, Grissom didn't need to consider himself as such to figure out just who it was that Sara was talking about.

"Sara…I really-"

Grissom was, once again, just about to say something of phenomenal proportions to Sara, but was cut off by the near cutting off of her finger.

"Holy crap! That's a lot of blood!" She exclaimed and took off for their shared bathroom.

He took right off after her.

"Sara? Sara, are you okay?" he asked when he saw all the blood in the sink.

"I don't know. Get the first aid kit, will you?"

He grabbed it and made an attempt at cleaning out the cut. It was a pretty good one, but not really worth rushing off to the nearest ER for.

"Friggin' lime juice burns like a son of a bitch! Get it out!" she hissed.

"Stop squirming like a two-year-old and maybe I could!"

"Oh, bite me! It hurts."

"Don't tell me to bite you. Last time someone told me to bite them, I did it."

"Yeah, right."

"Ask Nick. He might have a scar, actually." He poured more alcohol on her hand. "Stop squirming!"

"Bite me!" she yelled without thinking.

So he did. On her right shoulder…but not hard. He isn't an asshole.

"What the hell, Grissom?!"

"I told you to stop squirming and not to tell me that or I'd do it. Don't _tell _me to do things, because I'll probably do them," he said. "Learn your lesson?" he asked cockily.

She got right up in his face, nose-to-nose, and after a very long awkward moment, said, "kiss me."

So...maybe his release of information that he'd most likely do what he was told to do was a release of too much information. He did _not_ anticipate her daring, no, straight up _demanding_ that he kiss her.

She wanted to kiss him now –how many steps forward does _that_ count as?

He was staring her down the same as she was staring him down.

Just as he began to turn his head that little bit to make kissing her possible…

"Hey, what's with all the screaming goin' on down here?"

* * *

I'm not usually one for 'I told ya so'...but, yeah, I told ya so. I got you with the end, yeah? Enjoy the wait. I'll try and keep it reasonably short. Well, compared to what I normally put you through, anyways.

Review and tell me all about it, my dearies.

thegreatbluespoon


	4. No Hit Wonder

Hey, look, an update and you didn't even have to wait an entire month! Wow!

TDCSI rules all for the help she gave me on this chapter. A lot of this one came from her mind and I just wrote around it. She kicks a lot of ass, in my opinion. You should think so, too, since you didn't have to wait forever to get an update on this.

Kakidoll is back to being awesome for her wicked beta skills. Thank God for that. I thought I was going to have to fly to Florida and poke her with a stick or something. I'm too lazy for that type of pressure, damn it.

* * *

Everyone above deck was enjoying the sun and had begun to get things together for dinner when they'd heard a scream from below. Scared, they all looked around at each other because, hell, even though it was a pretty girly scream, it easily could have been Grissom doing it. Someone stabs you and I bet you'd make a damned funny noise too. 

Nick, for some reason elected the expendable one of the group, was sent down to check for casualties. Seeing some blood and no one in the kitchen, he followed the sound of running water and voices.

"Hey, what's with all the screaming goin' on down here?"

"Oh, Nick, hi." She laughed a little nervously. "I just cut myself," she said, holding up her injured middle finger to show Nick.

"Nice one, Sara. What are you in here for, Griss? You cut yourself too?"

"Me? Oh, I uh…I just…I'm uh, helping?" he said, stuttering as he tried backing out of the room, bumping into things on his way out.

Taking in the minimal distance between the two as he entered, the bright pink color of Grissom's face along with the fact that he could barely walk or form a sentence and the 'why in the hell are you in here right now' look on Sara's face, Nick had the sudden idea that he may have gone below deck a little too soon, but he blew the notion off just as quickly as it came because he also figured that there was also no chance that there was anything going on between the two.

As he and Sara followed Grissom into the kitchen, Nick said, "Not to sound crass or anything, but you didn't get blood on any of the limes, did you?"

"Wow, Nicky, way to care. No, I don't think I got any blood on the limes." She laughed. "You wouldn't believe how bad lime juice burns though."

"I can imagine," he said. "Look, why don't you just go up and join everyone else? Warrick is grilling up some chicken for us and some peppers for you. Griss and I can take care of the stuff in here. Right, Griss?"

As Grissom was about to stutter out yet another terrific answer, Greg cut him off by yelling down the stairs. "Hey! We're up here getting drunk without citrusy goodness in our beer, what's taking so long?!"

"Shut up and help Warrick, Greg!" Nick yelled up to him.

Sara turned to Grissom, who was avoiding looking at her at all costs, and asked if he wouldn't mind helping Nick while she went upstairs. He mumbled something that sounded half-assed like an agreement, so she grabbed a couple things from the fridge and went above deck to join the others.

Cutting the remainder of the limes Sara had gotten out with Nick was a little awkward.

Okay, it was really friggin' awkward.

The whole time they were talking, Nick was continuously talking about how good Catherine and Sara were looking that day (as if he hadn't noticed), he kept asking if Grissom was alright and kept mentioning the fact that he was flushed.

Well, no duh he was. He was damn near busted making out with Sara in the bathroom; of course he was going to be. What the hell was he supposed to say to all the questions? 'Oh, it's hot?'

"Well, I think that's the last of them, Nick. Need help taking them up? No? 'Kay then, see ya up there," Grissom said in one long breath and took off quickly before Nick even had a chance to register what he'd said.

-----

"'Bout damned time," Catherine said stealing a wedge off the plate Nick was carrying. "You wait for 'em to grow before you cut 'em up?" she laughed.

"Well, I only had help in cutting them up, not cleaning or bringing them all up here," he said, shooting a look over to Grissom.

Grissom ignored it and went on helping Warrick and Greg at the grill. Really he was only helping Warrick because Greg had lost his grilling privileges when he'd burnt one of Sara's peppers beyond the point of recognition.

"So, Sara, you don't need stitches or anything do you? I'll take you if you need to go." Greg volunteered.

"I'm fine, Greg." She laughed. "My finger is cut, not cut _off_." She waived it around in classic 'eff you' fashion.

"Good, get drunk with us then."

"I already said no."

"Why not?"

"No reason for you to worry about. Besides, I think I'll enjoy being the only sober person watching you all make fools of yourselves."

"Well, Griss isn't drinking either," Greg said.

"Yeah, why aren't you, Griss? Hell, it's my personal goal to get as drunk as possible and puke in every closet Ecklie has on this thing." Warrick laughed.

"Puke on my shoes and see what happens to your fancy hair froo-froo crap, Warrick Brown!" Catherine screeched. "Crap is more expensive than mine ever hoped to be," She muttered.

"Yeah…anyways, I don't know. I just don't think its fair that everyone else is going to be drinking and enjoying themselves while Sara is sitting around _not_ drinking. Sure it will be fun for her to watch Greg and Nick make royal asses of themselves, but I figured I…you know, might…um…like, join…her…or…something like that…or something." He shrugged and stared at the floor.

"That's awfully nice of you, Gil. Sounds like you're getting along a lot better since the shopping trip. You two kiss and make up or something?" Catherine joked.

Grissom had to fight hard to make sure his face showed no signs of being phased by that horrid comment.

Sara had to work hard not to slap Catherine for it. Oh, how she wanted to.

"What? Really? No comment from either of you?!" Catherine exclaimed with mock conspiracy in her voice.

"Well, I do believe we've all just witnessed one of those miracle type things," Greg joked.

"No kidding. The King of the Quotes and the Queen of Sarcasm with nothing to say…I think we should all prepare for the end of the world."

"I think you should all be quiet and continue on with dinner before I fire you and let Sara beat you all up," Grissom said, being completely serious.

-----

Warrick finished up the grilling, once nearly stabbing Greg when he'd reached for a steak before it was actually dinnertime. Catherine and Sara set the table while Nick and Grissom got everything else they would need from the kitchen below.

The dinner started out great. Conversation was light and consisted of many lame jokes, stories from when everyone started out at the lab (except for Grissom, since no one was around back then), and everyone's favorite 'hey, you remember that time Ecklie…' stories.

About the time the table got so full of empty beer bottles that the new empty ones had to be placed on the floor was when those dastardly mosquitoes interrupted the conversation.

Greg was having a hard enough time talking, let alone walking, and Catherine and Warrick were off in their own slightly drunken world. Taking both of those things into account, Nick, who was still kinda drunk, but not so far gone that he couldn't help, helped Grissom and Sara light the repellant candles that even Ickie was smart enough to have aboard.

While the three were making their fifth and final trip back up to get the rest of the empty beer bottles, Catherine announced that it wasn't even 11 pm, so there was no way the night was done. She and Warrick grabbed hold of Nick and ran downstairs for more beer, leaving a very drunk Greg, who was passed out in the dinghy, a chuckling Sara, and a very nervous Grissom.

"Why are you laughing?" he asked nervously.

"Why aren't you?"

"I don't really know." He shrugged.

"Nice reasoning, Griss."

"As always, my skills impress you." He smiled. "Will…will you sit with me?" he asked.

"Why not." Sara figured if he was speaking with actual words and not 'ums' and uhs' again, she would give him a shot. She would just be sure not to let him think that she was over the whole Whorebag McBitchface incident at the lab…because she sure as hell wasn't.

-----

After loading Nick and Warrick's arms up with as much beer as they could possibly carry, and grabbing some herself, Catherine drunkenly slammed the refrigerator door shut, causing one of the decorative vases on top to come crashing down.

They all let out a raucous laugh and knocked over a couple more things in the kitchen. One of those things was a jar of some…stuff that Grissom had brought with to 'season' his food with.

Not wanting to get fired…or killed, they set their bottles down and immediately got to work on cleaning up their mess. Nick got the brilliant idea to throw one of the bugs on Catherine. Her shriek made Warrick decide that Nick's plan to do so had in fact been awesome and he followed suit in throwing more on her.

"Would you two stop dicking around already?!" she yelled, pulling the bugs off her shirt.

Warrick laughed, "Their container broke. We were just looking for a safe place to keep them, Cath."

"Do it again and my fist is gonna find a safe place right upside your heads." She warned.

"Easy, killer," Warrick said, grabbing a bowl for the bugs.

"While you're throwing those icky little things on me, Gil and Sara are probably freaking out up there by now. One of…hell, probably both of them need our rescuing by now," Catherine said.

Nick started grinning. "I wouldn't be so sure of that."

"Really? And just what does that mean?"

"Nothing. It means nothing," he said, snickering.

"Nicholas Stokes, your butt tells me right now or I tell Warrick about that girl from swing shift!"

Nick's jaw dropped. "Nu-uh, you promised!"

"Yu-huh!" she said defiantly.

"When I came downstairs earlier, because you guys were all jerks and made _me_ do it, I think I walked in on…something."

"Something?" Warrick asked. "What kind of something?"

"I don't know. I yelled something when I got down here and, apparently, it's a good thing I did. They weren't in the kitchen because of Sara cutting herself, they were in the bathroom and so I went in there to see what was going on. Grissom was all red in the face and could barely walk or talk. Sara looked like she flat out wanted to kill me."

"Why? Were they touching or anything?"

"No, but they were awfully close." Nick shrugged.

Catherine thought about all Nick had told her for a second and asked, "Well, how close?"

"Like this," he said and went towards Warrick.

"Ah! Boy, what the hell is wrong with you!? I ain't _that_ drunk, and I'm pretty sure your ass ain't either!" Warrick yelled.

"Sorry. Here." Nick moved Catherine and then Warrick to stand just as Grissom and Sara had been when he'd walked in on them. Catherine stood still for a couple of seconds before her eyes went wide and she hauled off and punched Nick as hard as she could.

"YOU DUMBASS!" she yelled.

"What?!"

"He was gonna kiss her and you stopped him!"

"Aw, hell!" Nick said, slapping himself on the head.

-----

Grissom still hadn't said anything of real importance to Sara by the time the others had gotten back from below. Nerves were still kicking his ass.

He couldn't understand why she thought it was so funny, the whole situation between them. The near kiss and near bust had him so messed up inside and she was as giddy as a schoolgirl about it all.

Sara couldn't really figure out why Grissom was freaking out as badly as he was. He was how old and this was how he was reacting? That's why she was laughing as much as she was. How was that not funny?

They silently watched as the boys dropped their cargo of limes and bottles onto the table as Catherine walked over to the CD player. After jamming on a few of the 471,392 buttons on the ridiculous contraption, music finally began to play.

Warrick snagged Catherine up to dance as they both continued to drink their beers. Grissom figured that, since he had crap for confidence in actually speaking to her, maybe he would just dance with Sara tonight. Just as he turned to ask her…here comes Nick with his hand out to her in drunken question.

Not really wanting to dance, mainly because she's always had the complete inability to do so when she's sober, she looked to Grissom for some sort of rescue from Nick's request.

"Sara." Nick drawled out. "If you don't dance, then it's a party foul. You remember what happens if you get a party foul, don't you?"

Yeah, Sara did know what happened when you had a party foul. She learned what goes down with this group when Greg had knocked over Warrick's beer earlier that night. Greg now had to go back to the lab and explain to everyone why he only had one eyebrow.

"Nick, I really don't want to dance." Sara objected as Nick took her hand and began to pull on it.

"But…look at Cath and War." He tugged harder just in time for Sara to let go and send Nick backwards, landing on his ass.

Grissom couldn't help but laugh as Nick rolled around on the deck, rubbing his rear and howling about how bad it hurt. Sara gave Grissom a shy smile and went to help Nick up. She apologized to him and ended up dancing with him so he'd shut up about how badly she'd hurt him.

Ever been drunk? You come up with the most ingenious plan of your life, the most brilliant way to pull off that plan so that nothing about it could possibly go wrong. Everything about it is of absolute shining perfection…then time flies. The next thing you know, a whole two seconds has gone by and you've not only forgotten the grand ol' plan that you had, but that you even had a plan in the first place.

This is what happened to Catherine, Warrick and Nick. Their original intention with the music was for Warrick and Catherine to dance and for them to encourage Grissom and Sara to dance and for that dance to end in the kiss that Nick had ruined when he had gone downstairs. Whoopsie drunken daisy on Nick's part for messing up…_again_.

Though he's jealous of the fact that he's not the one dancing with her, Grissom says and does nothing about it, he just watches her and sadly imagines himself in Nick's place as the fast paced music turns, not to some hold-your-loved-one-close slow dance type, but to a type that gets Catherine and Warrick and Nick and Sara dancing closer to each other than what they were before. He watches her closer than what he had been at the grocery store and he doesn't care when she makes eye contact with him for a brief second. He just continues to watch her in the candlelight, wishing he'd actually grown a pair and asked her before Nick had the chance.

After Warrick announced that someone would be going to the store again in the morning for more beer and Catherine announced that it already was technically morning, Grissom ordered that they all needed to go to bed. Nick argued that all the other people around the lake were still awake, judging by all the shadows in and around the tents and all the fires still going and whatnot, so they were going to go see what fun the others were having and that Grissom could 'drag his old, gray ass to bed' if he wanted. Realizing that she was going to be sent to the store in the morning, Sara agreed with Grissom that it was time for bed and headed off that way while he argued with his drunken subordinates.

Grissom gave up on the three when Catherine flipped him off as she followed the two boys off the _yacht_ in search of more alcohol.

He surveyed the horrors of the deck and decided that cleaning could most certainly wait until later. Whatever he just stepped in wasn't something he wanted to deal with at the moment.

After checking that Greg still had a pulse, Grissom headed downstairs to wash his face, brush his teeth and get to bed. He got to the bathroom and nearly pitched a tent of his own at the sight before him.

Sara.

In some kind of…thing.

Outfit?

Like…nightclothes or something?

What the hell was she wearing? Where was the rest of it? Where could she get more of them to wear around his house after they got done fu-

"Hey," she said with a grin, cutting off his reverie.

"Uh…hey. What're you doing?" That's a really brilliant question on his part.

She raised an eyebrow at him and held up her toothbrush.

"Oh, right," he laughed.

She smiled and went about her business and he watched her as she did.

"Griss? You just…are you just going to watch me the whole time or do you have something else to do?" she asked, a little annoyed when she noticed him.

"What? Oh, I…was um-"

"Staring at me?"

Whoops…

"No." He laughed nervously. "No, I wasn't _staring_ at you."

"Is there something you want to say to me? Something you'd maybe like to talk about?" she asked as she stepped a little closer to him, trying to coax a conversation about their would-be kiss out of him.

When she stepped closer, it only made him more nervous…if that was even possible. "Look, Sara…um, I need to brush my teeth," he sighed.

She rolled her eyes and sulked to her room while his eyes followed her.

He washed his face, brushed his teeth and stared at himself in the mirror, considering himself the biggest fool in all of Vegas, if not the entire world. Sara pounding on the door interrupted his thoughts.

"You ever gonna be done in there?! I'm trying to go to bed!" she yelled.

It was Grissom's turn to roll his eyes as he put everything away in the bathroom and headed to bed. As he rolled over and shut off his light, he laughed to himself, "Oh my God, what am I trying to get myself into?"

* * *

I know that some of you may be a little disappointed about the lack of 'drunk talk.' Think about it…it would have been basically the entire chapter. My beta probably would've offed herself if she had to try and decipher all of that and I just got her back. Is that something you really want? I sure hope not, psycho. 

Anyways, I updated, so you have to review. That's how our relationship works. It's a win-win. Really, it's quite beautiful.

thegreatbluespoon

p.s. Okay, so I've written a lot of stories and by now you've certainly all figured out that I am a HUGE review whore. Nothing makes me happier than a ton of reviews. That's a lie, actually. A certain actress making her mark by an **x** would be dandy, but that's not the point. My point is that the story that I'm doing with TDCSI is failing to keep my review pimp pleased. I'm going to go post chapter 9 of it and if we get 100 reviews by the time I get to Texas to kick it with TDCSI, since she's trying to talk me into a tattoo, I'll get one of my pen name. Deal? No cheating, children.


	5. Truth or Truth

Since this is chapter five, I guess now would probably be a wise time for me to tell you I'm too poor to own anything but the nutty thoughts in my mind. Though, it does seem pointless if I've not gotten in trouble so far…

If you're reading Teen & Tribulations, which you should be because it rules all, then you know why I accomplished nothing during my two weeks in Texas. Might as well call it the Impeding State. Anyways, it was a ton of fun, and I found some crazy inspiration for a one-shot. (Besides the whole 'we just had fun instead of accomplishing things we should have' thing, the bus rides were terrible, so I wrote nothing during them. They made _me_ feel _sane_, if that gives you a hint at what I suffered.)

Thanks, of course, go to TDCSI for her natural skills in kick assery, mocking me and helping me when it comes to things I have no skills at, and to Brooke Greene for her novellas that keep me laughing.

* * *

"Chick food? That's still your excuse?" She asked as she cocked her hips to the side, nearly causing Grissom's undoing.

"No, it's not _my_ excuse. Not my excuse at all. I know Catherine would buy food fit for everyone, it's the other guys that are complaining about it all."

Peeking around Grissom, Sara shot the three boys, who had been eaves dropping on the conversation the whole time, a very nasty look. Never taking her eyes off of them, she said, "Grissom, I'm not going to the store again. I've changed my mind. I don't feel like it. Besides, don't you think that someone of a decently responsible nature should stay behind with the boat?"

"Yacht," he corrected.

"Oh, who the hell cares?!" she yelled.

"We're responsible enough," Warrick claimed.

"Really?" Sara asked.

"Damn right, we are."

"If you're all _so_ responsible, then where is Ecklie's life raft, the second car's left rear tire, and why is '_Frank is my hero'_ spray painted on the side of the yacht? I mean, who the hell is Frank?! What happened last night when you all left?" she asked, addressing Nick and Warrick, seeing as Catherine still had yet to grace them all with her presence.

"At least I know I'm not in trouble," Greg chuckled.

"At least we all still have two eyebrows," Nick bit back.

"Not if I can help it," Greg muttered as he rubbed the vacant spot where the second brow used to be.

"Okay, look, Sara is going to the store with me because I'm not going alone and I am damn sure not taking one of you with me," Grissom said.

"What? What's wrong with us?" Warrick asked in an offended tone.

"Warrick, why is that even a question?" he asked back, pointing to the spot where Ecklie's life raft was _supposed_ to be, but wasn't. "Yeah, Sara is going with," Grissom said with a roll of his eyes as he led Sara off the yacht.

--

"…and just because I don't glam myself out everyday for you all to see, it doesn't mean that I'm some super Tomboy that wouldn't bring back chick food. What the heck is 'chick food' anyways?"

"Uh-"

"And it's not like Catherine doesn't eat guy foods, you know. She'll eat a whole cow faster than you could ever hope to finish one steak."

"Yeah, I-"

"So it's not like the guys have any good reason to keep sending me with you. Do they? No. Dumbasses."

"Sara," Grissom said quickly and a little loudly.

"Christ, Grissom. What?!"

"Are you breathing in between words or is it all just strung together?" he chuckled.

She blushed lightly and apologized.

"Its fine, but I do like to get a word in every now and then, you know," he joked as they got out and walked into the store.

Inside, she shot him a look and asked if he needed more nuts…and it was obvious what she was talking about, but he asked for some pecans instead of going along with her game.

Besides little backtracks for things they forgot, shopping together was a thing of total ease. It was something that, corny as it sounds, really did feel natural to be doing together.

They were in the meat aisle now. No way was Sara going to be touching anything there, so Grissom was the one doing the bending and stretching.

And Sara, angry or disappointed or whatever she was supposed to be at him because of Whorebag McBitchface, she couldn't really remember right then, was the one taking advantage of the view at the time.

-The really, really _awesome_ view.

As he leaned a little farther into the cooler to grab something, Sara let out a small sigh and tilted her head to the side in appreciation and to get a bit of a better view. When she did, her neck made a small crack.

This kicked Grissom's curiosity in the ass, so he turned around to see Sara basically gawking at him.

"Sara? Sara, why are you staring at me like that?"

Snapping out of it, she began stuttering. "The…uh no, I wa- you…some of, the um…bacon," she nodded.

"Bacon?" he asked with a grin, knowing full well that he had caught her just as she had him.

"Bacon," she nodded again. "I was um, I was looking at the bacon. You should get some. I think the boys would like that," she said quickly and walked away muttering something about tequila.

A couple minutes later, a more composed Sara found her way back to Grissom with a bottle of tequila in her hand. He gave her a questioning look, but she assured him that it wasn't for her…as much as she wanted or needed it right then. Bypassing the obvious question of what she meant by that, he asked why she was buying it then.

With a shrug, she answered, "To get the guys drunker quicker."

"I thought you were smart" he said.

"And I thought you were. Griss, if we pour tequila down their throats quick enough, we can talk them into anything. That includes staying on the boat to drink more. When they drink more, eventually, they'll pass out. Duh."

"Devious, Miss Sidle. I like this side of you." He gave her a grin and a wink and pushed the cart towards the register as she stayed behind for a quick second to recover.

--

"Ooh! Bacon! Greg, you can make breakfast if you promise not to set the kitchen on fire."

"Promise." He smiled sweetly. "Holy crap. Who had _this_ genius idea?" he asked, holding up the bottle of tequila.

"Me," Sara said. "Heaven forbid you should all burn out on beer, right?"

"Didn't know it was possible," Nick laughed.

Dinner and drinks, many drinks, were made and everyone had taken their seats. Once again, Warrick had impressed all with his grilling skills.

"Do we call you Wolfgang now, or is War still alright?"

"You, Nicky, can call me anything you'd like…so long as you go get me another beer," Warrick laughed.

"Nice. Last night I'm Cath's running man, and today you try and make me yours. Not gonna happen." He finished by throwing a napkin at him.

"So you do remember stuff about last night?" Sara asked, hopefully.

"Yeah, of course we do. We remember plenty."

"You went to bed, Grissom told us to stay, Cath told him to stick it or something-"

"I don't remember _that_!" Catherine cut Nick off.

Having already brushed off what Catherine did, Grissom asked, "What happened after you left? Anyone happen to know who Frank is?"

"I remember about an hour after we left. Things got fuzzy after that because there was some girl named Sandy that Nick liked and, for some reason, we all started playing 'Truth or Dare' with, like, four other camps and a few bottles of something tasted like fire."

Sara giggled, "You played 'Truth or Dare' last night?"

"Pretty sure we did, yeah."

A creepy little smile appeared on Greg's face as he said, "Tequila and 'Truth or Dare,' anyone?"

Ten minutes later, Sara and Grissom were the only two without a buzz. Grissom had been talked into one shot and Sara had as well, but she'd been sly enough in spitting it back out that no one had noticed.

Everyone else was already slightly gone, having previously been drinking before taking shots, so they were really on their way now.

"War! What'll it be?" Nick asked.

"I'm a half-drunk chicken. Truth," he said with a drink of whatever Catherine had just poured him.

"Your virginity was lost when and to whooom?" Nick asked, drawing out the last word like an uppity drunk Frenchman.

Everyone 'whooped', hollered, and waited for his answer.

"I…I was nineteen. Just turned, actually. She was a girl in my statistics class. I was failing because it's the world's most ignorant class _ever_ and she was my tutor. She told me that, if I passed the class, she had a sweet reward for me. Turns out that, hell yeah, she did!" he laughed.

"You were nineteen?" Greg asked, unbelievingly.

"I told you, I was a dork," Warrick said with a shrug. "Whatever, it's _my _turn now."

"We're scared." Catherine joked.

"You should be," he said. "Truth or dare, Cath?"

"Crap. Truth."

"What? The all powerful, balls-to-the-wall, I'm-not-scared-of-a-damn-thing, Catherine Willows is gonna opt out with a 'truth' in this?"

She sighed, "I hate you. Dare."

He grinned widely. "Shiver shot."

Her grin grew to match his as Grissom just rolled his eyes at what the game had become.

Sara leaned over to Nick and whispered, "What the hell is a shiver shot?"

"Seriously?"

At her look of dead seriousness, he told her to just watch.

Catherine grabbed a lime wedge and popped it in her mouth as Warrick poured a shot and placed it in her cleavage.

With the saltshaker in hand, "Ready?" he asked.

She nodded and he went for it. Warrick licked her neck and splashed some salt on it. Once he had the salt removed, his mouth went straight to the shot. He grabbed the glass with lips and tipped his mouth back, downing the tequila. After spitting the glass out, Warrick moved to retrieve the lime.

Salt, shot, and lime…all gone and Grissom just couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"That, Sara, was a shiver shot," Nick grinned.

A few more turns around the table gave way to a heavier buzz and odd info about co-workers including the fact that Sara was missing one rib and Greg had once eaten a wood screw. They learned that Warrick had an irrational fear of geese and that Grissom might like bugs now, but as a child, he'd spent hours frying ants with a magnifying glass. Before the game, no one knew that Nick had previously owned 1/8th rights to a koala named Tammy before she died in a horrible eucalyptus accident, and that, resulting from a greased pole prank gone wrong, Catherine had once caused another stripper to break her ankle.

It was now Nick's turn, and his goal was still to get back at Sara.

"Truth or dare, Sar?"

"I'll pass on giving you more to make fun of me about. Dare, please."

"Shiver shot."

Instant fear crossed her face as she looked over at Grissom who was wearing nothing but anger on his face.

"Nick, I am _so_ not doing that."

"It's a dare. Kinda means you have to since everyone else has been doing them. Besides, my ass still hurts…you owe me."

"Fine."

Salt, shot, and lime…all gone and Grissom was pissed that Sara had allowed something like that to happen.

A few more trips around the table and it was Grissom's turn.

"Sara, what would you like?"

"I don't even care, really," she sighed.

"Truth alright with you?"

"Sure, why not?" she laughed. "More embarrassing information for you all."

A curious thought popped into his head just then. "Today in the store, what were you looking at?"

Her eyes went wide. "I-I told you already."

"But now we're playing a game of truth, so I risk asking again. What were you looking at?"

Not really knowing what the two of them were talking about, the rest of the table just stayed quiet for the time.

"Grissom, this-"

"Well?" he asked.

"You," she said with decent confidence, but blushed after Greg snickered.

"Thank you." Grissom smiled cockily.

"My turn," she said. "Grissom, truth or dare?"

He swallowed a little lump that formed in his throat. He had sort of expected her to come after him after what he just did, but hoping against hope does work sometimes.

Just not this time.

And 'dare' was, however impossible it seems, a hell of a lot dumber to choose than 'truth' right then.

"Truth, please."

"Lady Heather?"

Figuring out that this game had just turned into one hell of a fishing expedition for the two, the other four decided that silence was undoubtedly going to be the best thing for them right then.

"Very nice woman. What about her?"

"Don't get smart, you know what I'm asking, Grissom. The _whole _lab talked about you two for a long, long time. Hell, some people still do."

"Nothing happened that you need to concern yourself with. That's all I'll tell you. Truth or dare, Sara."

"Guess," she answered snidely.

"Hank?"

"You can kiss my ass on that one, Grissom."

"Truth or dare, Sara," he grinned.

"Nothing happened that you need to concern yourself with," she mocked. "You don't answer me and I'm not going to answer you."

"I can't tell you about Heather, you know that. Anything that happens behind her doors, simple conversations as well, are all kept under wraps."

"What about Lurie? Is that one under wraps also?"

Grissom didn't have a snappy little answer for that one. He didn't even have a starter answer that would lead into something that sounded like an explanation for that one. He had no clue she'd heard that. Brass told him she wasn't even in the building when that interview was going on.

"Sara-"

"Remember, this is a truthful game," she warned.

"Sara, you weren't supposed to hear that."

"Greg didn't hear Nick and Warrick plotting to shave his head tonight. Does that mean it didn't happen?" she asked before she got up from the table and walked off with tears in her eyes.

--

She didn't know why she'd stayed on the boat…yacht, whatever, after she and Grissom had gotten into it, but it would look pretty dumb for her to go storming off now, so she just stayed in the seat she had taken at the opposite end from everyone else.

Making her way over to her Sara, Catherine downed half of the beer she had in her hand before she spoke.

"You two are going to drive the rest of us completely insane. You know that, right?" she said and took a seat next to Sara.

"Well, it's not like it's my fault. Really."

Catherine just gave her a 'that's a bullshit line' look.

"Okay. I guess it is kinda my fault, but he just gets to me."

"What did he do this time? Most of the time we all know what he did to piss you off, but we're all totally clueless this time around."

Sara sighed, "Couple days before this whole yacht thing came up…I, I saw Sofia kiss him at the lab."

Catherine just laughed.

"What? How is _that_ funny, Catherine?"

As her laughter slowed, Catherine answered, "Sara, I don't care if you've got a picture of him with a goat, it's _still_ Grissom."

A confused look found its way to Sara's face. "I don't get it."

"Sara, when you look at Gil, what do you see?"

She risked a glance over at him. Grissom was by himself at one corner of the deck, gripping the railing tightly in anger. He was a little aged…not dreadfully fit…but damned if that man wasn't still fine as all get out.

She sighed, "An ass that could cure cancer…among other things, of course."

"Exactly," Catherine shrugged. "Sara, the man is totally do-able."

Sara did a double take as she looked back at Catherine. "Whoa, what?"

"I'd never do anything about it, the man is my friend…but yeah, he's damn good looking."

"Nice, Catherine."

"Look, I don't know what the hell that little stunt was between you two just then, but I know that he's had women after him for years and he's never done anything about it but turn them down. He's not like that, Sara. There's nothing between him and Sofia."

"That you know of."

"What does that mean?"

"You're not God, Catherine. You don't know everything."

"That goes on in that lab, yeah, I do."

"I bet you twenty dollars that, hypothetically, two people that work there could carry out a secret relationship, calling each other pet names at work over bodies, buying each other fake hamburgers, sending one another note-less gifts in the mail. Hell, they could have a boxer that had a tail together, and they could do all this, and more, over, say… two years and I bet you wouldn't have a clue, my omniscient one," she finished in a mocking tone.

"Specific, much? I guarantee I would know about something like _that_, Sara," she scoffed.

"Of course, you would. It was hypothetical, anyways. Not like that would actually happen."

"I'll give you another supposed situation. Let's say that, hypothetically, you go over there and talk to Gil about what just happened."

"What? Why should I go talk to him?"

"Like he's got enough hypothetical guts to come talk to you, Sara."

--

"Should one of us go say something to him?"

"I don't think that's too smart. That'd probably be like signing our resignation, Greg."

"What was all that even about?"

"Airing dirty laundry type of thing, I guess. We all saw it coming one day and today was it," Nick said with a shrug.

"Man, I'm surprised Sara didn't flip his ass over the side of the boat," Warrick laughed.

"Yacht," Greg corrected.

"Greg, no one cares!" Nick yelled.

"Look, I think one of you does need to go over there and tell him to talk to him," Warrick said.

"Whoa, dude. Why is it one of us and not you?" Greg asked.

"Nicky has that whole brotherly thing going with Sara, so Griss would understand his view. You have the whole lost puppy in love thing going, so if you go over there and tell him to talk to her or you'll cut his break lines some random day in the future, well, he'll probably believe you."

"And you aren't up for doing it because?"

"I'm not stupid," Warrick said and made his way to sit with Catherine and Sara.

--

"Grissom," Greg said, cautiously. "Um…I need to talk to you."

"Greg, right now is _so _not the time to be doing whatever it is that you're doing."

"No, actually, I think it is. You need to go talk to Sara."

"Greg, we're not at the lab, I _will_ hit you."

"Griss, I care a lot about Sara and you, we all do, and that whole thing was _weird_ for us to watch. We don't really know what's going on between you two, but we know what _should_ be going on between you two. Talk to her…or I'll kill you."

Unable to help the chuckle that came out at that, Grissom said, "Excuse me?"

"Well, maybe I will, or maybe I won't. Who knows? I know you don't. Talk to her and you won't have that constant worry weighing on your mind."

At that, Greg walked away, Grissom laughed lightly at him again and went back to thinking about how he was a total moron that deserved nothing Sara had to offer.

--

"Sara, if you don't go, I'll tell Greg what dresser drawer you put your underwear in," Catherine warned.

"Wait, how do you know that?" Warrick asked with a stupid grin.

"She was talking to me while I unpacked, perv," Sara said.

"Oh. Anyways, Sar, you gotta go talk to the man. Greg was just over there and it doesn't look like it worked at all."

"I'm not going. I didn't start it."

"Fine. Don't go over there and talk it out with the man that you clearly care a lot about. See if we care when you regret this more than any decision you've made in your life."

With that thought and a sigh, Sara made up her mind.

--

Grissom turned from the rail with a sigh as he decided he was ready to go talk to Sara about what he'd said. He was surprised to see her right behind him.

"Oh, hey."

"Hey."

Simple conversation starters from both of them followed by a good two or three minutes of silence, foot shuffling, invisible lint picking and good 'ol suggestive throat clearing by everyone else on the yacht.

"Sara…"

At the sound of Grissom's voice, everyone perked up to listen and he took notice at that. Not wanting another pubic display, especially if it was set to turn into something like the one just before, he willed up every ounce of courage he had in him.

With one hand in a pocket, fiddling with change in absolute nervousness, he motioned off the yacht with the other. She hesitated, but eventually nodded and Grissom had finally and successfully grown a pair because they headed off to talk, just the two of them.

* * *

TDCSI yelled at me for the cliffy ending. I said 'you're welcome.'

Oh, and, yeah, I totally put a goat in here. I was going to anyways, but I was going to be a lot sneakier about it. The thing is, is that when I was in Texas, we were watching Dr. Phil (b/c why not?) and he said, 'Lady, I don't care if you've got a picture of him with a goat!' and TDCSI and I just friggin' lost it and decided that the line _had_ to go in this story. Mad props to the uber cuckookachoo Dr. Phil for that line, by the way. My lawyer would so get stomped by yours.

You all know how to make my spazzy little day- Reviews!!

thegreatbluespoon

p.s. Before I get some ignorant ass PM from an uppity drunk Frenchman, I apologize beforehand. I don't think _all _Frenchman are uppity drunks.


	6. Twice the Love for All

Sooo...how is everyone? I know that I told a lot of you that I was going to work on Cherub Cheer, but I started it and it pissed me off. Instead of dealing with it, I went the five-year-old route and gave up altogether. I'll get back to it after I finish a one-shot inspired by something written on a ketchup bottle. (gotta love standing around with the fridge door open while Mom is yelling at you for 'wasting the cold')

Serious thanks to TDCSI. Yet again, she has helped me out. I'd probably fail at life if not for you.

* * *

"His office."

Nick and Warrick groaned.

"What? C'mon, it's only fair," she protested with a shrug.

"Bogus. Pick something else."

Catherine sighed, "Fine, ya bunch of babies. I'll just get his office when they discover the body anyways, you know. Um…oh! I call dibs on that creepy little hand he has."

"Guys!" Greg yelled.

Catherine, Nick and Warrick turned to Greg, wide-eyed, waiting for an explanation for his outburst.

"What is _wrong_ with all of you?" he asked. "Grissom is out there in the woods right now probably getting ripped limb by limb by a pissed off Sara, and all you three can think of is divvying up his stuff?! You people are demented!" he yelled, throwing his hands in the air.

"You can have Miss Piggy, Greg," Nick teased.

"…I want that weird scorpion, too."

"So I get the mini-fridge," Warrick said.

"Like hell you do!" Nick shouted. "If I have to take that creepy radioactive spider, then I should get the fridge."

Greg leaned over to Catherine while Nick and Warrick continued to have it out and asked her how long Grissom and Sara had been gone. "Nearly an hour, Greg," she told him after checking her watch.

"She's probably filleted him by now," he said, his voice full of worry.

"Nah. Griss would take longer than an hour to cut up," she deadpanned.

"Oh, really nice, Catherine."

"Greg, I'm sure he's fine. If Sara were to kill him, I think she would be smart enough to do it when there weren't people waiting for him to come back with her, don't you?"

"True. But she was pretty mad, Catherine," he said.

"Look, I'm going to deal with these two. Why don't you go make some food? There's bacon, remember?"

"Fine, but if Sara comes back alone, I am _so _out of here!" he gave in and walked off.

Catherine quickly began her job as mediator between Nick and Warrick as Greg disappeared into the kitchen below.

Mid "I'll shave _your_ eyebrow" threat, Nick, Warrick and Catherine were interrupted by a shrill beeping.

"What the hell is _that_?!" someone yelled over the noise.

Just then, Greg came hauling serious ass up the stairs. "Holy shit! The kitchen's on fire!"

--

After they had walked for nearly twenty minutes in complete silence (other than Sara asking Grissom if he was alright after he nearly tripped over a stick), the two of them decided to stop and sit down on some rocks that looked as comfortable as some random rocks can possibly look.

Sara was about to yell at him for what had just happened back at the yacht, but the she thought better of it. She decided to stay quiet for the time and let him speak first, figuring that, if she just started screaming at him, he probably wasn't going to feel up to starting any conversations with her afterwards.

For Grissom, it was all around one of the most uncomfortable moments of his life.

The rocks hurt his ass. They obviously hurt Sara's too because she just kept wriggling around, trying to get comfortable, but the only thing she accomplished the whole time was scaring off some squirrels. The silence was ridiculous and he had no idea about what to say to her.

So they sat there…and sat there…and sat there. Sara wanted to smack Grissom for being such a sissy and Grissom wanted to jump off a cliff.

Eventually Grissom thought of something he could say that wouldn't make himself look like a fool, so he turned to Sara, opened his mouth to speak, but decided not to. She sighed with disappointment and he took notice.

He turned back and said, "Sara…" And that was it before he figured that, yeah, he probably would look like a fool.

"Grissom, I don't know what your problem is, but you need to get the hell over it!" she yelled, shocking even herself.

What? He'd totally spoken first.

"Sara, it's not me that has a problem," he calmly said.

"Oh, so it's me?"

He shook his head. "That isn't what I said."

"Well, Griss, there are two of us. If it isn't you with the problem, that really only leaves me."

"You always put words in my mouth," he said.

"No, I don't. How can I? There's no room with your foot always shoved in there," she snapped.

"Excuse me?" he asked, offended.

"Oh, you heard me, Bugman."

"Room to talk, Sara? I don't think so. Preach to me all you want, but you have just as little room to talk as I do."

"God, you are such an asshole. You know that, right?"

"You realize how immature you're being? Sitting on a rock in the woods, screaming names at me?"

"Talk about preaching, Grissom. How mature is it to go screw a suspect?"

That shut him up.

"What, nothing to say about that one? Oh, I forgot, you can't talk about 'simple conversations' you had with her," she mocked with a laugh.

"That's what it was!" he yelled as he stood up from his rock. "I never thought you to be stupid, Sara." he said and walked away.

Deciding that he wasn't going to just walk away from her, especially since he was finally talking, she hopped up from her rock and went after him. "And I never took you to be stupid, either."

"Oh, just what in the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?" he asked with a spiteful tone, tired of the conversation already.

"You know how I feel about you."

He snorted, "It's not like you hide it."

"It wasn't a question. I know that you know, but you don't do anything about it. Why?"

"Honestly?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "No, Grissom, lie to me."

"Honestly, it's because…you scare the shit out of me."

"I _scare_ you?" she laughed. "Roller coaster record holder is scared of the vegetarian?"

"Little bit, yeah."

"That's going to need some explaining."

"Sara…" he gave a big sigh. "Look at us."

She threw her hands in the air. "Christ, here we go again. I told you I don't care about the age thing."

"Not that. Look at what we're doing right now. We're in the middle of the woods screaming at each other over stuff we know nothing about."

"So let's get to know something about all of it. Tell me about Heather," she shrugged. "It's not like she has the friggin' woods wire tapped, Griss."

"Sara, this is so easy for you. It's not for me."

"Bull. You think this whole 'share my feelings' crap is all sunshine and rainbows for me? Like hell it is. The last time I did this, it was to a guy that had posters of kittens and puppies in his office. When our appointment was done, he gave me a scratch 'n sniff sticker that said 'Have a grape day!' on it."

"Dear God, that's terrible," he laughed.

"I know, that's why I'm telling you now that it can't be all that bad to just get all our issues out in the open, especially since it's just the two of us out here in the woods," she said, motioning to their surroundings. "I highly doubt the raccoons are going to interrupt us."

"You have to promise not to lose it and start screaming at me."

She gave a nervous laugh, "Jesus, Grissom, is it that bad?"

"I hope not, but with you I never know when you're going to want to kill me. You just seem to randomly hate me."

"Because you randomly piss me off. I never know when you're going to say something to make my day or say something to break it. You compliment me and give me butterflies like some junior high schooler, or you criticize the hell out of me and, yeah, you make me want to kill you."

"It's not intentional."

"Regardless of whether or not you mean to do it, you still do it."

"So…I have to learn not to mess with your head. Okay, that's talked out."

"Not so hard. Told you so," she said smartly, earning her a look.

"I know, but I know what else you want to talk about, Sara, and that has me very worried."

Little things (for them, anyways) were discussed, argued about and reasoned over while the time ticked away. Things that neither of them ever expected were learned.

"You want me to kill him?"

She couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm serious, Sara."

"Grissom, you couldn't kill him. You couldn't go through with it, but I do appreciate the offer."

"Well, _I_ might not be able to do it, but…but I know plenty of other people that would have no issues at all with doing it."

"But then you would feel guilty and would hate yourself for it."

"Like hell I would! Okay, I would, but you didn't deserve any of that, Sara."

"Thanks."

"I could drop a hint to the right people, who, in turn, would drop a hint to their right people, Sara. From there, it's really just a matter of time, you know." He laughed.

"Griss, I really do appreciate the offer, but I'm a big girl. I don't need Hank assassinated, thanks."

"Alright, alright." He said, still giving the process heavy consideration in his mind.

By now, Grissom and Sara had walked a little farther into the woods around the lake. Sara pointed out some bird Nick taught her about and Grissom pointed out a stick on the ground so she wouldn't trip over it and look as dumb as he had earlier. Eventually, they found a much more comfortable seat on a fallen tree.

"So…you and Wh- _Sofia_, huh?" she said, biting back a laugh at her near mistake.

"No. God, no. I thought I told you that already."

"Sorta." She gave a shrug.

"Look, she wants to be with me. Sometimes it's like she acts as if we are, just like when she gave me that kiss. I saw that you'd seen it and I wanted to kick my own ass, Sara."

"No need. I'm not as mad about it. Still mad that you allow stuff like that to happen with her while you can't agree to a simple dinner with me…"

"Like it would have been a simple dinner," he said contritely.

"Your ears are better, we could go now," she suggested.

Shocked, he asked, "How'd you know about that?"

"Chalk it up to me having mad skills," she shrugged. "Really, we could."

"Uh…yeah. Yeah, that'd be great."

"Okay."

"Okay," he nodded.

For some reason, once things had been talked out between them, silence took over with a vengeance. Both of them knew why, too.

Finally, after who knows how long, Sara brought up the inevitable. "So, about that kiss that Nick interrupted?"

"Besides Hank, I don't think I've ever wanted to kill someone more in my entire life," he said with complete seriousness.

"I agree with you on that," she laughed. "You know… there isn't anyone out here to come barging in."

With a smile and curious eyebrow raised, Grissom turned to her. "And just what are you proposing, Miss Sidle?"

She shrugged, "Kiss me."

Grissom honestly couldn't believe she was giving him another chance. Why any woman would deal with as much crap as he'd put her through, he'd never be quite able to comprehend, but he sure as hell wasn't going to argue with her over the matter either.

Just as he began to turn his head that little bit to make kissing her possible…

His phone rang.

"Jesus H. Christ at a slot machine in the desert!" he muttered, checking the ID. "It's Catherine."

Sara groaned. "Probably thinks I've scattered parts of you through the woods by now. Calling to see if you're still alive or something."

He agreed and answered his phone. "This had better be good."

* * *

Yeah, I totally just did that to you **again**.

I know that this wasn't much, but the next chapter should keep you happy.

Once again, I posted, so you have to review. I think it's pretty much a law or something.

thegreatbluespoon


	7. Fire & Slice

One...more...day. Freaking out? So am I.

Trudy...you freak. Thanks for your bit of idea that went into this one.

I got to writing this chapter, and it turned out to be something other than what I had intended. Just like the last chapter, this one was not planned, so it's one of those 'my bad, I'll get back on track next time' type of chapters.

I really appreciate the reviews so far. You all kick a royal ass. (Except for the those of you under the Queen. I support that in no way.)

* * *

When Grissom and Sara got back to the yacht, Catherine was wrapping Greg's left hand just as Nick and Warrick were making their way back up from the kitchen, extinguishers in hand. 

"Greg, you promised to _not_ set the kitchen on fire!" Grissom yelled as he motioned downstairs. "What the hell happened?"

"First, I would just like to say that I am _so_ glad you're alive," he said.

"Gee, thanks. The feeling's mutual," Grissom replied sarcastically.

"Cool," he happily said. "Second, Ecklie has got a HUGE bug problem on this yacht. Not that there are a lot of bugs, but that the bugs are big enough to eat my dog."

"Greg, I never noticed any bugs," Sara said.

"We're screwed," Nick whispered to Warrick.

"Nick, how bad is it down there?"

"Not as bad as you'd think it'd be with our luck this weekend," he laughed. "It's really just right around the stove area that's burnt. Greg made a mess when he thrashed around, too. Couple things broke here and there, but I think we're good."

"Thank God. We might be able to get it fixed before Ecklie sees it. And don't forget we still have to get that Frank business off the side, too."

"Can we get back to the whole bug issue?" Grissom asked, taking a seat at the table.

Sara reiterated the fact that she'd never seen bugs and took a seat next to Grissom as everyone else sat too. Grissom gave her a shy smile as he scooted a bit away from her. A little confused at his move, Sara decided to ignore it for the time and listen to Greg.

Greg thanked Catherine for wrapping his hand and started began his tale of how the bacon went from greasy goodness to flaming strips from Hell.

"…so Catherine told me to go make some food. I don't have the greatest ability when it comes to cooking, but what I can make is edible. Anyway, I'm making the bacon and this bug the size of my _head _comes crawling along the arm that I'm holding the pan with. I freak out and start trying to flick it off and somehow the pan catches on fire. The fire goes from the pan to the stove to the wall. I mean, yeah it sucks that I set the kitchen on fire, but you should have seen those flames!" he laughed.

"I'm glad you're so proud of yourself, Greg," Grissom said flatly. "What kind of bug was it?"

Greg rolled his eyes. "Like I know."

Grissom sighed, "What did the bug look like?"

"We're _so_ screwed," Nick whispered to Warrick again.

"It had beady little eyes on its giant head. The mouth was…well, it had those pincher things for a mouth. There were friggin' wings on it, man. Can you believe that? I'm surprised that big ass thing didn't pick me up and fly off."

"Was it black, Greg?" Grissom asked after the bug started to sound more and more familiar to him.

"Yeah. All of it was. Even those devil fangs."

"Why does the satanic bug that Greg is telling us about sound exactly like the bugs I had in the fridge downstairs?" Grissom asked.

"You two are in so deep!" Catherine pointed at Nick and Warrick, laughing.

"Why are they in trouble?" Sara asked.

"They spilt Grissom's bugs all over the kitchen. I guess while they were too busy throwing them on me to pay attention, one of the bugs got away and it ended up causing The Great Yacht Fire of oh-seven," Catherine informed her.

"You two lost one of Grissom's bugs? Wow, you are screwed," Sara laughed.

"I am so far from being in the mood for this," Grissom said as he rubbed his temples. "Ecklie is going to have my ass for this. I was supposed to be babysitting this heap and you have all made it into a shrine to everything that is wrong with alcohol."

"Well, I wouldn't go _that_ far," Nick muttered, cracking open a beer.

"Oh, really? Well, Nicky, have you found Ecklie's life raft yet? Do any of you have a clue yet as to just who the hell that Frank guy is? I mean, is he a genuinely good guy or is he the latest ritualistic serial killer? How about that fire you just put out not ten minutes ago? Are you telling me that all of these things just made me into the poster child for yacht-sitting?"

"I'd hire you," Greg shrugged.

Warrick laughed as he nodded. "Sure. You make it _really_ interesting."

"Not the point!" Grissom yelled.

"Oh, Gil, calm down. We still have plenty of time until Ecklie shows his holy baldness around here. We'll be fine," Catherine reassured him. "The whole point of this time here was to have fun. We've all had a wonderful time so far. Haven't you?"

"How can I when every damn time I go to, people yell down the stairs or call me?!" Grissom yelled and stormed off.

Shocked, Greg asked, "Uh, what does that mean?"

Nick cracked a smile and teasingly said, "Maybe we should ask Sara."

Her eyes went wide. "Why the hell would you need to ask _me_?"

"Oh, I don't know," Warrick said in a playful tone. "No one yelled down the steps when any of _us_ were with him." He motioned to everyone at the table but her. "Then you've got the fact that the only time he's been called during this whole yacht sitting gig…well, he's been with you, Sara."

"That…yeah, um…that proves nothing," she said nervously.

"Sara, look, we already know what almost happened in the bathroom." Catherine smiled.

Sara wanted to throw up. "And what almost happened in the bathroom?"

"Well, Grissom was about to kiss you, but Nick's stupidity walked right in on you."

Sara snorted, "Yeah, right. Like _that_ would ever happen!"

A discouraged look took over the table.

"Come on, you guys! You really think Grissom and I were about to make-out in the bathroom? What universe are you all living in? Look, I don't know what he's talking about. Maybe there was some roach crawling up a tree in the woods before Catherine called him, but we weren't doing anything."

"But-"

"But nothing," she said, walking off to go find Grissom and yell at him for leaving her to fend for herself like that.

"You guys really think they were going to make-out in the bathroom?" Greg asked.

"That's what Nick said," Catherine answered.

"No, that's what you interpreted," he defended.

"Regardless, they've got something going. We've just got to figure out what it is. He held her hand to help her onto the yacht, then moved his chair away from her when we sat down. He doesn't ignore her, but he doesn't exactly act like he did before."

"God, they're confusing."

"Like I said before, God just needs to let them do it already," Catherine laughed.

"Speaking of doing it…" Greg smiled.

"What?"

He pointed out into the lake at some women that were swimming.

"Nice catch, Greggo!" Nick said and gave him a high-five.

"I guess we're going swimming," Warrick smiled.

"Damn right. Where there are hot chicks, there are hot guys," Catherine mused.

"Someone needs to go tell Sara and Griss to change."

Silence.

No one volunteered because no one wanted to be the one to interrupt whatever _wasn't_ happening between the two of them.

"Okay, seriously."

"I'm not doing it. I almost died earlier," Greg protested.

Nick rolled his eyes. "It was your own fault, Greg."

"No, it was _your _fault." He pointed at Nick. "You dropped the bug that caused me to burn the kitchen. That automatically excludes me from having to go tell them."

"Only one way to settle this." Catherine shrugged. "Rock, paper, scissors."

After the competition ended in a way clearly defined by Nick as 'bullshit,' he headed downstairs to find Sara and Grissom.

--

When Sara had left the table to find Grissom, it didn't take her long. He was in the kitchen, inspecting the damage done by Chef Wannabe.

"Griss?"

He jumped about a mile high and turned around, clutching his chest. "Jesus, Sara!"

"Sorry," she giggled. "I didn't mean to."

"It's all right. A heart attack would merely be the cherry on top of this fine weekend."

"Well, you _did_ invite Catherine. You honestly mean to tell me that you didn't see that going wrong in some way?" she said, popping some gum in her mouth. "Want one?" she asked, offering him a piece.

"No, thank you. You know, I really did think it was just going to be just Catherine with me, sitting on the deck, talking and enjoying the view. Instead, it turned into…_this,_" he groaned, pointing at the charred wall around the stove.

"Well, I guess that's what you get for thinking," she joked.

"I'll never do it again if this is going to be the result," he retorted.

"You find your bug?"

"Yeah." He turned back to the stove and grabbed a charred chunk of something. "Greg fried him."

Sara cringed. "Ew."

"Yeah, they're better while they're still alive," he said and tossed it in the trash. "So, what'd you come down for?"

"To yell at you, actually," she said with a dead serious look on her face.

"What? What did I do?" he feigned innocence, as he had a pretty good idea about why she was mad.

"You ditched me up there. Do you have any idea what they were asking me about, Grissom?"

"Probably about-"

"Exactly!" she interrupted. "Your little blow up back there. Do you know they think we were making out in the bathroom?" At his look of confusion, she elaborated. "When I cut my hand and we went into the bathroom to doctor it up. Nick came down and thought he interrupted a make-out session in the bathroom. Your little hissy fit just now left me for the wolves, you know. I just had to lie my ass off to all of them."

"It's not like it's my fault," he defended.

"How is it not your fault? It's completely your fault!"

"You know you chew your gum quite loudly, right?" he tried.

"Don't change the subject!" she snapped. "What is your problem, Grissom? Ever since we stepped foot back on this ignorant yacht, you've had some bug up your ass."

He gave sigh. "Because you're acting like everything is normal, Sara. Everything is _not _normal. We can't just sit with each other and behave like we want. That's not how it works."

"Why the hell not? You think any of those people up there give a damn if the two of us finally do what we've wanted to for a long time now?" She said with a look on her face and a tone in her voice that gave heavy indication of just what it was that she'd wanted to do. "No, they don't. Actually, they'd probably be on the other side of the door, cheering us on."

"Sara, I just don't know how to handle all of this," he sighed, trying not to look at her.

"I do! You put on your big boy pants, ignore the fact that you're a chicken, you dive right in, and we go from there. Simple."

Sara jumped back when he slammed his hand down on the counter. "I can't! What don't you get about that?"

Her answer was, "you're bleeding."

"What?"

"Your hand." She pointed at the one he hit the counter with. "It's bleeding."

Grissom had slammed his hand down right onto a vase that Greg had shattered in his attempt to escape the demonic beetle earlier.

"Ow," he said, looking at the ridiculous amount of blood for the size wound it was. "Oww. It really hurts."

"Don't be such a baby," she laughed and grabbed his good hand, pulling him towards the bathroom. "Come on, I guess it's my turn to play doctor."

"I think I'm bleeding to death."

"Oh, my God, you'll be fine," Sara said, flicking on the bathroom lights. "Turn the sink on and put your hand under the water." She directed as she dug around in the drawers for the First Aid kit.

He shut the door and did what he was told as he watched Sara rifle through the drawers. "Ow, ow, ow, owwww." He hissed.

"I found the kit, but we used most of the stuff on me." She turned to him, just missing out on catching him staring at her.

"You know I can barely understand what you're saying, right? You smack your gum so loud that-"

Sara grabbed his cut hand. "Finish your sentence and I'll give you something to 'ow, ow, ow' about, Grissom." She warned.

"Sorry." He blushed. "It really hurts."

"Give it here and I'll try and help."

Just then, Nick arrived in the kitchen to tell them to change into their bathing suits. Not seeing anyone, he sighed and cautiously headed towards their rooms.

"I'm sure you can make it feel better, Doctor Sidle," he mocked, "but look at it. It's huge."

Nick froze as he approached the bathroom.

"It is pretty big," she said, inspecting the cut in better light.

He pulled his hand back. "Don't get it all over your face, Sara."

Nick's face was a perfect picture of shock as he stood outside the bathroom, completely unable to move. What's that smacking sound? Are they making-out?

"Would you just give it to me?" she said, tugging at his arm.

"Ow! Don't pull on it so hard, Sara."

"Don't be like that. Just give it to me." She grabbed the bottle of peroxide. "You want me to use this?"

"It'll burn, won't it?"

Nick wanted to run and tell the others, but he stood right where he was. Sara and Grissom's words had him glued to the floor. Just what the hell were they doing in there?

"I'll just put a little on. If it hurts you, I'll stop," she reassured him.

Outside, Nick had to fight hard to not laugh at what he was hearing.

"Okay, go ahead." Sara obliged and added a little peroxide to the cut. He flinched a bit at the initial contact, but he smiled at her and told her it was okay.

"Really?" she asked.

"Yeah. The bubbles are nice," he grinned.

Nick was beyond weirded out now. Bubbles? Oh, he _so_ did not even want to know.

Sara poured more and more peroxide on the cut until it stopped foaming up. "I think I'm done."

"What? Already?" he asked, obviously surprised.

"Well, with that part. Dry it off so this will stick." She held up the tape. "If it falls off, I'll put it back on, but let's try and make it work the first time."

Grissom toweled off his hand while Nick darted off towards everyone above deck.

"I can't believe how much blood will come out of a cut on a hand."

--

Just as Catherine was about to say something, Nick cut her off by storming up the stairs, yelling, "They're doing it, they're doing it, they're freaking doing it!"

"Wait, what?"

"Sara and Grissom. They're doing it!" Nick yelled again.

"Doing what, Nick?"

"_It_!"

* * *

If only, if only Nick would've stayed put…but, then again, that wouldn't have made for a very good story line, would it? 

Go review it, go review it, go freaking review it! (you know, please)

thegreatbluespoon


	8. Too Much

I apologize for this being later than promised. I was dealing with doctors and the fact that my sister has chosen today to get married. Yes, _today_, the day of the greatest friggin' episode of CSI _ever_. I hope you all enjoy seeing it as it airs, because I'm going to be kicking her wedded ass for making me miss it. 

If there are any mistakes, I'll take care of them later. Right now I _should_ be getting ready...but you see how that's going.

* * *

As Nick's news began to sink its way in, three shocked-as-hell faces developed before him.

"No way!"

"Yeah!" Nick squeaked out and pointed back down the steps. "I swear!"

"Wait, like…_it_?" Greg asked again with a stupid grin smeared across his face.

"Man, if they weren't down there gettin' it on in their bathroom, then I'm the Queen of England," Nick said, still pointing down the stairs with purpose.

"Okay, there are _so_ many jokes for that, but I think the moment calls for me ignoring it," Greg said.

Catherine told Greg to shut up and asked Nick if he was absolutely positive.

"Queen of England!" he yelled and motioned to the stairs. "If you don't believe me, then go listen."

Warrick, Catherine and Greg all looked at each other…and the game was on.

All three made their way to the top of the stairs just as Nick had turned back to head down them. This harsh miscalculation in timing caused the four to become lodged at the top.

"Greg, I swear on your stack of pornos, if that's your hand, I _will_ break it off!" Catherine threatened as she tried to squirm her way out of the mess.

"C-Cather-Catherine, Cath, you _really_ need to stop moving like that," Warrick whispered to her.

"Then tell Nick to kick Greg in the nuts and get a damn move-on or something!" she said, harshly. "Like I can help it if my ass is rubbing all over your-"

"Whoa!" Nick shouted. "Whoa freakin' whoa! I don't need to hear any of that. I deal enough with it at night when you think everyone's asleep. Newsflash- ain't everyone in bed, Cath."

Though Catherine's cheek's flushed a little bit at this new information, she went about her current business of trying to free herself from the tangled mess of legs, arms, and nice asses that clogged the stairwell. Just when she thought she had just enough leverage, she slipped. Instinctively throwing her arms back for balance so that she wouldn't go dropping down the stairs like the coolest slinky you've ever seen, her hand made contact with Nick's face, making the nastiest 'WHACK' sound any of the four of them had heard in a long while.

"What the hell, Catherine?!" came the muffled yell out from under Nick's hand as he covered his now gushing nose.

Greg laughed as Catherine apologized, so Nick lifted his knee in a rough fashion. When Greg cried out in pain and cradled his manhood as best as he could from the position he was in, Nick wiped more blood away and mockingly said, "Oops, sorry, guess it was a reflex."

"I hate you," Greg squeaked.

Warrick, not wanting any violence to befall him, warningly told the other three to settle down and be quiet before Sara and Grissom heard them all and stopped whatever they were hopefully doing.

"Then you tell Nick to apologize," Greg demanded in his damaged voice.

Nick wasn't going for that one. "I'll apologize when Tyson does."

"It was a damn accident, you sissy," Catherine hissed at him. "It's not even bleeding that bad."

"_That_ bad!?" Nick said. "I'm probably bleeding worse than you when you're-"

"No!" Warrick intervened with a hand clamped over Nick's mouth. "No, no, no, no. Buddy, just don't go there. For the sake of everyone around the lake, just _don't _go _there_."

"Whatever, man," Nick sighed. "Just everyone stop moving so we can get the hell off these steps. Otherwise, Greg won't hear anything and I'll forever be a queen of something because I wasn't proved right," Nick ordered.

"Already are a Queen of the-"

"Finish it, Greg! Finish it and I'll hurt ya!" Nick warned.

"Will you two shut the hell up so we can get down the damn steps on this stupid ass yacht that Grissom was sent to babysit so we can hear those two hump like jackrabbits in friggin' heat!!" Catherine swore quietly so the two downstairs wouldn't hear, but loudly enough that her point got across to those clumped around her.

The three man's eyes immediately went to the floor after being yelled at. "Sorry," one of them mumbled.

"Can we go _now_?" she asked.

"Yeah," another voice said, quiet and still ashamed at having been scolded like that.

Catherine smiled at their defeat. "Okay. Greg, stand up as straight as you possibly can," she instructed as she looked at the mess of limbs around her. "Nick, you move your arm…"

It didn't take much movement to get them all figured out and freed up, just a little ingenuity. Other than Warrick getting poked in the eye a couple of times, it went without complication, so they were down the stairs in a stealthy manner in no time.

"I know I wanted you all to hear this," Nick said, "But I'm thinking now that this may be a little wrong, what with the spying on the…you know."

"Bite me, Nicky." was the response he got as they crept down the hall towards the bathroom.

When all four got to the door, the first thing they heard was Grissom saying, "Is this good enough?"

Nick whispered, "Told you so!"

A unanimous "shh!" came from the other three, so Nick went silent and they all listened in.

On the other side of the bathroom door, Sara was getting set to reapply gauze and tape since Grissom didn't listen to her the first time and hadn't dried his hand enough. You'd think that a man his age would know how to put a damn gauze wrap on his own hand correctly.

"I don't know," Sara shrugged. "Feel it and see if it's still wet."

Catherine had to cover her mouth so that her laugh wouldn't echo throughout the downstairs.

"Oh…my God. Grissom's in there getting laid," Greg said in a monotone voice. "What the hell?"

Warrick said nothing as he took out his wallet and just handed the whole thing to Nick.

Grissom felt it and it didn't feel wet or damp, or anything really, so he said, "Yeah, I think we're good to go this time."

'_This time_?!' Catherine mouthed to the guys. '_Oh, my God_!'

"Okay," Sara said, "Give it here."

Handing her his hand, Grissom smiled. This was nice, the whole bit where she cared for him like she was. He couldn't help but let his mind wonder as he watched her fingers work.

"You said it didn't hurt last time, but you flinched," she said.

Man, what pictures the mind can create with just a little help of a visual aid…

"So don't lie this time, Grissom."

Just imagining what her and those fingers…

Sincerely, she asked, "Does it hurt or not?"

"So good," he groaned.

Her eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"What?!" he said, unable to hide his embarrassment as he shot off his seat on the sink counter, knocking over their things that were scattered on it as he did. "I didn't- who? Why'd- You didn't… uh, cars?"

"Cars?" Sara asked. "What?"

Outside, the team couldn't really hear what was being said because they were all trying to muffle their laughter. All any of them were catching were the thrashing noises from within the bathroom.

"Grissom's a friggin' stallion!" Catherine laughed.

Greg, slightly more pale than before, said, "Guys, I _really_ don't think we should be listening to this anymore."

"Greg, you gotta grow up sometime," Catherine joked.

Back in the bathroom, Sara couldn't help but laugh as Grissom continued to trip over his semi-explanatory words while he tried to put every thing back in its place on the counter, all in an attempt to not have to look at her.

"Grissom, I know what you were thinking about," she said in a sing-song voice as she moved to see his face. "And I think it's funny."

"I wasn't thinking about anything."

"Of course you were. Even if you were thinking about nothing, technically it's still something that you were thinking about," she smiled.

Finally looking at her, he said, "That makes no sense, Sara."

"Because you were thinkin' of _me_," she grinned.

He scoffed once, then twice, then a third time. "I was _not_ thinking of _you_."

Ignoring the obvious offence she could take at that, she said, "Well, you were thinking of something damned distracting."

"Yeah, cars."

"Me and cars?" she asked, trying to help him clean up glass from a bottle he'd broken when it fell to the floor.

"Sara, a naked you mixed with cars never crossed my mind," he swore.

She grinned. "Funny, I never said anything about me being naked."

His face dropped. "I- I…I, no…it, shit."

She laughed and gave a sigh. "Stop stuttering and kiss me already, Grissom."

"That sounds great," he smiled and started moving across the floor towards her. Halfway there, he stuck his already injured hand down on a piece of the broken bottle. "Son of a bitch!" he yelled.

"Oh, crap!" Catherine laughed. "Go, Sara!"

Just as she said that, the bathroom door swung open and the four eaves droppers were met with two very confused faces.

"What are you guys doing?" Grissom asked, holding his injured hand close to himself. "What's going on?"

"We, uh…" One of them tried.

"There's , like…like, uh…"

"There a draft down here, too?"

"Kind of windy…up…there…" Nick muttered.

Sara laughed, "Seriously."

"We heard yelling," Catherine shrugged.

"Grissom cut the hell out of his hand. I think he needs stitches," Sara said.

"Oh, I do not!" Grissom snapped.

"Really?" Sara laughed. "Well, show them," she insisted. When he refused, she grabbed his arm away from his chest and pulled the gauze back for the previous listeners to now see.

"WHOA!" Nick yelled. "Griss, is that a bone? That's not bone is it?" He looked at Sara, "That's bone isn't it? Can I touch it?"

Pulling his hand back roughly, Grissom said, "No, you may not touch it. Catherine, you need to take me to the hospital."

Catherine just laughed.

"Why is that funny?" Grissom asked.

"I'm going swimming. We're all going swimming, actually," she said, pointing to the guys, Sara and herself.

"What am I supposed to do?" he asked. "I'm not weaving through weekend traffic with one hand."

"Take Sara."

Sara's protests began immediately. "Bull. I'm stuck driving everywhere this weekend. I go shopping and I'll probably get stuck going to the hardware store to get everything to fix this wreckage, too! Someone else can take him to the hospital. I deserve to enjoy myself while I'm here!"

Everyone but her and Grissom snickered.

"I'm going swimming, too!" Sara said.

"Sara, half the fun in swimming is showing off your body in a teeny suit," Catherine said.

"Yeah," Nick agreed. "You probably have trunks like we all do. Just take the man."

--

The drive to the hospital was a quiet one.

Grissom couldn't keep his mind from going back to his previous thoughts. Sara couldn't help but plot the deaths of each and every person left on that horrid piece of boating fun that Ecklie called a yacht.

Once inside, the nurse said for Grissom and his girlfriend to have a seat. Both of them nearly throwing up with nervousness, they did as they were told and kept all comments to themselves for the remainder of the hospital visit.

Grissom got his stitches. The doctor was even impressed by the hole in his hand.

When they left, Grissom offered to drive and even offered to stop someplace so that they could get something to eat. She let him pick and he stopped at a little sandwich shop because it was the only place for a couple of miles that he'd seen that looked like it served anything vegetarian at all.

Appreciative of his offer for dinner, Sara tried not to make him too uncomfortable throughout the meal with questions about them or their relationship, questions about what he really had been thinking about back on the yacht…though she was smart enough to figure that one out on her own and pretty much already had.

After they'd finished eating, they stayed in their little booth by the window, not saying much, but not wanting to really go anywhere either.

When Grissom finally opened his mouth, Sara was thrown a little off.

"I like you," he said.

She stared at him.

"A lot."

Still staring.

"_A lot_."

"Okay."

"Okay?" he asked. "But-"

"Well, I already knew that, Grissom," she laughed. "Thank you, though."

"Okay," he said with a smile.

When they finally decided that they should head back what they called the S.S. Travesty, Grissom took his good hand and took one of hers. "First dates are weird," he said with a bigger smile. "I apologize and promise to make it up to you. No stitches and no crappy sandwiches next time."

"Uh-"

"We should get back before they set the whole forest on fire," he said, being completely serious as thoughts of Smokey the Bear filled his mind.

--

When they got back, Sara was still a bit on the speechless side, but Grissom was ready for conversation with anyone that would talk to him. He was in a very nice mood. Whether it was from the painkillers or from the tiny confession he gave Sara, he didn't know, but it was great.

The rest of the team practically demanded that the two change to go swimming, but Grissom argued to the best of his abilities that he couldn't because of his new stitches. Sara, however, was completely doomed…not that she minded.

Swimming trunks like the boys? Haha! Did she have a surprise for them.

Changing took all of ten minutes, and when she came back up, the responses she got were all similar to the effect of, "Oh, my sweet Jesus. Is that legal?"

* * *

Yeah, it was weird, but I know I made you laugh.

So make me laugh with a massive amount of reviews.

thegreatbluespoon


	9. Plus One

In case you were wondering, and in case you weren't, I _did_ make it home from my sister's wedding in time to see that ep of CSI. And it _owned_! I went up to my sister and said, "You know what today is, right? Today is _Thursday_. Thursday is so not the day to get married. It's CSI night and Grissom is asking Sara to marry him tonight. What's wrong with you?" Then she squealed something in my face about her marriage and I ignored it, saying more about how she was causing me to miss CSI, and that the day's only saving grace was cake (that ended up sucking total ass). She said, "Well, it's not like I can just leave him at the alter, you know." Then I got hit upside the back of the head by the groom's mom when I said, "Nicole, that's the best idea so far!" But the wedding was great and everyone cried and got drunk and I made it home with 16 minutes to spare. I saw GSR awesomeness and squealed right along with the rest of you.

Thanks to TDCSI. I would have deleted most of this and started over if not for her, so thanks go to her for an update being decently soon.

Anyway, I fixed the last chapter. Words actually make sense in it now.

Oh, and forget about the baby belly Sara is sporting.

* * *

The looks… 

The looks were _perfect_.

Absolutely beyond anything she'd imagined they'd be when she finally decided to go back above deck (instead of chickening out and changing back into regular clothes like she had really considered for about .5 seconds when she'd gotten to the bottom of the stairs), Sara had to fight to keep the smug look off her own face as she sat down at the table.

The look on Warrick's face basically said, '_Damn, white girl's fine as hell._'

Nick's face read like '_Holy crap, Sara r__eally is hot. Great, n__ow I owe Greg twenty bucks_'

'_All my dreams were true. Have my babies?_' was pretty much the only way to interpret the near-drooling look on Greg's face.

Though Catherine was obviously shocked right along with the others, it was clear what else was on her mind. '_Bitch. Like I needed any competition this weekend._'

She was most amused at Grissom, though. Sitting at the other end of the table from where she'd taken her seat, he'd crossed his legs and put his hands in his lap almost immediately after she'd succumbed to the demand her ego had made of spinning around once or twice to showcase her wares.

Unable to read his look, one made of a cross between obvious want and attraction and severe discomfort, she gave up on the effort and just laughed at everyone.

"What?" she asked through the laughter.

"Uh…uh-"

"Uhhhhh, what?" she asked again.

"What the hell, Sara?" Catherine asked.

"Not to sound like a broken record, but what?"

"Where'd all this come from, Sara?" Catherine asked, joined by everyone else in looking her up and down.

"All of what?" Sara innocently asked, calmly taking a drink of her soda from the sandwich shop.

Nick cut in, "The hotness, the bright orange bikini, the _hotness_, the…the body, Sara. Since when did you have one?"

"Uh, pretty sure I always have, Nick," she joked.

"Funny," Warrick mocked.

"I've had the suit for a while," she answered. "The body…like I said, as long as I can remember. And I'm not _hot_, you guys."

"Bull," Catherine scoffed and earned weird looks from everyone. "What?! Well, she is! As soon as we hit the water, she's going to get every guy's attention out there!" she yelled in her own defense.

"Hey," Sara said. "This is what you get for trash-talking. I do act like a girl on an occasion or two, you know."

"Well, lesson learned, thanks. By the way, I think you broke Greg," she laughed.

Everyone looked over at Greg, who was still staring at Sara with googly eyes and a half-open mouth.

"Greg?" Nick asked, waiving a hand in front of his face. "Greg? Greg!"

"Yeah, he's gone," Warrick laughed.

"Just toss him over the side," Catherine suggested with a wave of her hand. "He'll snap out of it in a heartbeat."

Nick and Warrick nodded at their orders and turned back to Greg. "Greggie poo, we're goin' for a swim now," they told him and grabbed him up. "Water's fine today, so don't freak, alright?" With that said, they moved and tossed him right over the side of the yacht.

He did snap out of his hotness-induced coma and began kicking and paddling right away. Nick and Warrick decided that jumping off the yacht looked like fun, so that's how they joined Greg in the water. Catherine didn't really dig that approach, so she tried talking Grissom into joining them all once more before she finally gave up on that and walked down to one of the docks and dove in.

"You're not going?" Grissom asked Sara when she didn't leave.

"I will in a minute. Why so quick to get rid of me?" She gave a mocking pout.

"Sara, you had a purpose in mind when you put that suit on. I think you're well aware of the fact that it worked," he said in a scolding tone.

She laughed conspiratorially, "Darn, ya caught me."

He narrowed his eyes at her.

"Fine!" She threw her hands up in defeat and laughed when he adjusted in his seat again. "Alright, I take pity on you, Griss. I'll go now."

"And good riddance to you," he said, shooing her away.

--

She sat on the dock for a little while, just watching the others swim with a few friends they'd made from a few of the other camps from around the lake before Nick, Greg and Warrick all decided that she belonged in the water with the rest of them.

Catherine and other guys she didn't know cheered the guys on as they swam over to where she was, picked her up, and threw her into the lake. She could even hear Grissom laughing from his spot on the yacht.

She punched Greg as hard as she could when she felt his hand on her ass. He laughed and swore that he thought it was Catherine.

"You know she'd smack you just as well as I did, Greg!" Sara yelled.

"Yeah, but it was worth it. Sorry," he shrugged.

"Don't let it happen again, or I'll let Grissom loose on you," she warned.

Nick laughed, "Ooh, Greg! Sara's boyfriend's gonna beat you up!"

"Run, Greggo, run," Warrick said.

Sara sighed and rolled her eyes. "I told you guys already. There isn't anything going on between the two of us."

"Sure," Catherine snorted. "We were outside of the bathroom for long enough to catch Grissom's finishing act, Sara."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Sara asked.

"Oh, stop playing dumb," some random guy yelled. "They're talking about you doing some guy in the bathroom!"

Sara gasped. "What?!"

"Yeah," Catherine laughed. "Nick heard it and came up to get all of us. We heard it all, Sara. Stop lying to us already. How was it, by the way? And like we'd ever tell Ecklie's shininess about it, Sara. We want you two to be happy, really."

"No, you guys," Sara laughed. "We…we weren't doing anything in the bathroom."

"Of course you were," Greg piped up. "All that talk about wet things and how big things were? Sara…we're all adults, you guys were doing the do, and that's that."

"No, that isn't that, Greg," she said defiantly. "We weren't having sex. Yes, I sure as hell wouldn't have minded it, but we didn't. He cut his hand and I was helping clean it. Nick took everything out of context and told you something stupid. Then you all listened in on Grissom breaking things because _he_ said something stupid out of nervousness. The guy was in a small space with me for more than five seconds, what more could you have expected?"

"Sex," they said dejectedly.

Yes, they were all down now, having heard that Sara and Grissom hadn't gone at it like horny wildebeest, but the morose mood was changed when one of the people around them started splashing water and yelling something about getting drunk later.

--

Grissom sat by himself on the yacht doing mental calculations of how much it would take to fix all of the damage to it so far. With the fire, paint and disappearance of items like the life raft, it was going to take a good chunk of change to cover it all.

Not really paying attention to what was going on around him, he was a little surprised when Sara walked up to him. "Hey," she said, wrapping a towel around herself.

"Uh, hey."

She sat next to him and asked what he was up to.

"Figuring out what kind of money I'm going to have to spend to fix this _boat_ so that Ecklie doesn't fire me when he sees that it's completely trashed."

"Ah. Sounds like fun."

"Tons. Why aren't you swimming?" he asked.

She shrugged, "Same reason you aren't."

"I'm not because of my hand."

"No, you aren't because you don't want to," she said. "Same reason I'm not. There are a few other things far more worthy of my time than hanging out in the water and getting splashed by guys so dumb they probably couldn't spell my name. And that's if they even bother to remember it in the first place."

He laughed. Looking back over his shoulder, he noticed that everyone else was pretty preoccupied with the fun they were having. Turning back to her, she looked damn near adorable. She was staring down at the corner of the towel that she was fiddling with and he could tell that she was telling the truth when she said she didn't want to be in the water; she wanted to be on the yacht with him.

"Sara?" he said to get her attention. "Do you…um, do you want to go over there and sit?" he asked, pointing to the other side of the yacht.

Confused, all she got out was "Um…" before he explained.

"Other side, so they don't really see us," he said. "I'd, uh…ask you downstairs, but that would be very forward of me, and my mind is telling me that that would be an incredibly dumb thing to do, given this weekend's track record and all."

"Though a forward invitation from you would be _far_ from offensive right now…I do agree with you about the rest of that," she laughed. "We'd probably sink this thing somehow."

"My God, woman, the things you do for my ego," he joked as he stood, extending a helping hand to her in the process.

She took his hand with one of hers, keeping the other on the towel to make sure it stayed wrapped around her. She stood up to meet him and they walked to the other side to sit. He was right; the others couldn't really see them from that side.

"Genius," she smiled.

"Again with the ego."

"I do what I can," she shrugged. "So, why are we on this side? You know they're going to start talking once they've noticed we're gone, right?"

"I'm not so sure that I really care, Sara."

"Ah," she laughed. "Well, would you care if I told you that they all think we were having sex in the bathroom, and _that's_ the reason they were downstairs earlier today?"

When his mouth dropping open a bit was the only response she got, Sara couldn't help but laugh. "I thought so."

"S-Sex?!"

"Yes, Grissom."

"But…sex?!"

"Yes, Grissom," she repeated with a laugh.

"But…how? Or why, rather."

"Well, when two people like each other very much," she started. "Or when one of them has enough money for the other's tastes…"

"Oh, ha, ha," he deadpanned.

She rolled her eyes, "Apparently we were saying things that could easily be taken out of context if you were on the other side of the bathroom door. Severely out of context, actually."

"Things like what?"

"Well, things like 'feel it and see if it's still wet,' 'just give it to me,' 'it's pretty big,' and some other things like that. Like I said, Grissom, easily taken out of context. Especially when they hear you thrashing around like a sex-God in there," she laughed.

He huffed, "What'd you tell them when they brought it up?"

"Oh, I told them we were going at it like little horny, love-sick teenagers," she said, looking him in the eye with a straight face.

Horror crossed his face before he yelled, "What?!"

She burst out laughing. "Oh…my…God…ease…up!"

"Sara!"

After she calmed down, she told him that she'd dispelled the rumors of any nasty business taking place in the bathroom, no matter how much she may have wanted it and no matter how much she may have tried goading him into it.

"Did they believe you?" he asked nervously.

She shrugged, "I think so. They have no reason not to."

"Well, if I can't even get a kiss in with you, then how the hell are we supposed to have sex?" he scoffed.

"That's no joke. But it's not like it's my fault, though," she said. "I think the entire world is against us."

"And I completely agree with you on that," he nodded. After a quick moment of thought, he shared "You know, the only times we're interrupted are the times that I've tried to kiss you, Sara."

A sly grin found its way to her face as she leaned closer to him. "And just what are _you_ proposing, Doctor Grissom," she mocked.

He shrugged just as she had in the woods. "Kiss me."

Just as she began to turn her head that little bit to make kissing him possible…

A horridly familiar voice yelled, "_Who_ the _hell_ is_ Frank_?!"

* * *

Gee, I wonder who that is. I've been waiting to do this to you for about four chapters now, so it just made my day to write it. HA! 

You hate me, don't you? Though I'm actually a wee bit scared of what they'll say, you know you want to go leave a review now. You just _have_ to!

thegreatbluespoon


	10. Baldy, Baldy Oxen Free!

Yeah, so this is a little short, but I think I made up for it by the laughs you're about to have. I really, really needed one myself, and so I took massive liberties on this chapter and just got dumb...er. But I'm at my father's office right now, and if crotchety old guys laugh at it, then I think it's worth presenting to you. So...here is your fillery type chapter for silly, giggly fun before we all go TV bashing tonight. Good golly gosh darn you, JF! (G rated hate, for the kids.)

Right here is where I get all 'at loss for words' and junk. You've given me tons of reviews even though I never update on a regular basis. Why it is that you all put up with me, I'll _never_ understand, but I appreciate you and your ridiculously funny reviews so much! Thank-ums, dearies!

* * *

Grissom and Sara instantly pulled back from each other at the sound of his voice. 

"It _never _ends!" Grissom muttered under his breath as he watched Sara wrap the towel tighter around herself.

"Well? Who the hell is he?" Ecklie repeated.

"Conrad, that's confidential information that I am not at liberty to discuss with anyone," Grissom said in as calm a voice as he could muster when he finally turned to face him.

"You don't even know whose name is _etched_ onto my _yacht_, Gil?!" Ecklie howled.

"Pfft. It's hardly _etched_ onto it. It's just paint," Sara told him. "I'm sure it'll come right off."

"The only thing that's coming off of here is you when you march your asses off to jail for destroying my yacht!" he yelled again. "She isn't even supposed to be here!" Ecklie yelled and pointed to Sara. "What happened to bringing Catherine?"

Grissom sighed, "Catherine is here. Everyone is, actually."

"Get them over here, Gil! I want everyone on this yacht, right this second!"

"How, Conrad? Yell? They're halfway across the lake and all the way drunk by now. They aren't going to hear me."

"Then call them. Do whatever you have to; just get their asses over here. Now!"

"You want me to blow into my conch shell and summon up all the creatures of the lake, too?" he asked mockingly as Sara choked back a laugh. "They're in the water, Conrad; they don't have their phones."

Ecklie let out a string of random words that sounded…somewhat similar to those of the blasphemous kind and began to walk around the yacht to inspect the damage it had taken.

If he had seen the worst things and then discovered the okay-we-can-totally-fix-this-with-a-wad-of-gum-and-band-aid types of things, then maybe he wouldn't have been so pissed. But no, Ecklie just happened to find the semi-fixable things, then stumbled upon all the things that could drive a nun to strangle a baby dolphin.

Grissom and Sara stood by each other and watched on as his anger registered in pretty shades of red on his face. Changing from a not-so-bad-sunburn kind of pink when he saw that there were enough empty beer containers to make a small fortune at the recycling plant, to a tomato red when he stepped in…well, they didn't know what it was and _really_ felt no need to strain their brains on guessing, and finally to a I'm-going-to-have-an-anger-induced-stroke kind of red when he noticed the empty spot on the side of the yacht.

"Where the hell's my life raft at?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Grissom smiled and scratched his head as he tried coming up with an answer that wouldn't result in his immediate firing, if not death. "Funny story, Conrad. You see-"

Ecklie cut in with "I'll guarantee it's not as funny as you being jobless."

Grissom's smile left. "Well…that's not very funny at all."

"Probably not! Neither is the fact that my damn life raft is missing!"

"Oh, get _over_ it!" Sara bellowed. "You have your lips attached to enough ass, Ecklie; I'm sure you can get your damn boat fixed, life raft and all, for next to nothing, if not _for_ nothing."

Grissom's mouth formed a shocked little 'O' as Ecklie's just dropped wide open.

"Don't think about firing me, either. We're not at work, so I can say any damn thing that I'd like to you," she told Ecklie in a warning voice.

Though the moment so completely called for finger snaps in the air and some "oh, no, she didn'ts!", none came from either man. Ecklie sputtered out the beginnings to about thirty different sentences before he gave up on trying to speak, and Grissom did the same.

Semi-silence was broken when the half-in-the-tank quartet all came stumbling onto the yacht.

"…and I was all, 'Well, your mom's got a nice ass!' And so his grandma-" Nick stopped his near drunk ramblings when he saw Ecklie staring at him with a screwed up look on his face.

"Hey!" Greg yelled. "It…is-um you! Like, hey…dude."

"How much did he drink?" Sara laughed.

"Lesses than _me_!" Catherine told her as she slung an arm around her neck. "The filthy hell is _that_ guy doin' here?" she thought she whispered.

"This guy," Ecklie said, "Is here because you all can't keep yourselves under control."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that I've gotten about a dozen phone calls just in the last day from people that live around here telling me that there are major issues with my property," he informed the part of the group that was capable of listening.

Incredibly nervous about just how much Ecklie knew had happened to his yacht so far, Grissom asked, "Just what might those major issues be?"

"_Whores_, Gil."

Everyone burst out laughing at Ecklie's answer, but they stopped once they realized he was serious.

"What the heck are you talking about, Conrad?"

"There's an older couple that lives on their boat several months out of the year. They've been watching you and they tell me that there've been whores on and off of here at all hours of the day."

"There are no whores on this boat, Ecklie."

"Yacht. I don't own some piddly little boat, I own a _yacht_," Ecklie corrected.

"Yacht, schmacht."

Ignoring Greg's ignorant drunken words, Ecklie went on. "They also said that fire extinguishers were being waived around. So…" he took a shaky breath. "as downright scared as I am to ask this…where, Gil? Where was the fire at?"

Nervously eyeing everyone, Grissom hoped that someone else would feel brave, or nice…or just generally not like an asshole and would tell Ecklie that the kitchen had been set on fire so that he wouldn't have to, but _nope_, no one else sacrificed themselves, so Grissom had to.

"Kitchen," he said quietly.

"WHAT?!"

"Your kitchen," he said louder. "We set your kitchen on fire, Conrad."

Ecklie threw his arms in the air and began more of his incoherent rantings, causing the drunks to laugh.

"Pi-i-i-i-ssssed!" Catherine sputtered out.

"Hey. Hey, Griss? Grissom?" Warrick said, tapping Grissom on the shoulder to get his attention…even though Grissom was facing him, waiting for Warrick to go on with what he wanted.

"Yeah, Warrick?" he asked mockingly. "I'm right here. What?"

"I say…that we…as in us," he said and pointed to all around him, except for Ecklie, who was inspecting his lime wedge covered stereo. "all of us…jet-jum- Jetsons- jettison his…um, ass."

The idea of throwing Ecklie overboard hit everyone, drunk and sober alike, very well.

"Who's the most drunk?" Grissom asked.

"Well, I'm getting trashed off Greg's breath," Sara laughed and waived a hand in front of her face. "I'd say he's our winner."

Grissom turned to Greg with a devious smile. "Greg?"

Looking up at his boss with half-opened eyes, Greg answered him. "Yuppers, my grey hero?"

"That man has to get off of this boat-"

In a Valley Girl voice, Greg corrected Grissom. "Tis a yacht-y."

"_He has to get off this damn yacht before he goes down stairs and sees what YOU did to his precious kitchen_!" Grissom hissed at him in one long breath. "Now, go over to him and…"

--

"Eckles!" Greg called out from the slight huddle. "C'mere, I gotta tell you something that's just _hi-lar-i-ous_!" he giggled. Then he cried out "NahwaitIcancometoyou!" and took off towards him.

"Wait, what?" Ecklie said and stood up from his observing position at the stereo.

Just as Ecklie stood up from his spot, Greg bumped into him. Ecklie tried shoving him back, but Greg insisted it was a secret and continued walking towards Ecklie as he backed away from Greg.

Within a couple of feet, Greg had Ecklie backed up against the railing and had everyone else laughing their heads off. "I forget what the secret was. I guess that's whats some bears…um, beers will do," Greg told him and pushed him over the rails.

Everyone cheered for Greg as Ecklie screamed profanities from down in the water.

Grissom walked over and yelled down to him. "Can't do much seeing as you're soaked, Conrad. How about you go home, and I'll take care of your boat…yacht, whatever?" he offered. "And I promise, no whores. Scout's Honor," he grinned and held his fingers.

Bobbing in the water, the light nearly blinding off his shiny wet head, Ecklie yelled back, "You have one day, or I'll fire every last one of you!"

"We'll go the hardware store as soon as you leave."

Swimming around and hoisting himself out of the lake, Ecklie considered the offer. He could put the teeny amount of trust he had into them fixing his pricey yacht…or he could go ahead an overpay 'professionals' to come in.

Screw it.

"If that Frank guy comes back and spray paints anything again, his ass is going to jail!" he warned.

"Not Frank!" Warrick yelled.

"You don't even remember who he is," Sara snapped. "Shut up."

"Gil, I am telling you this in fair warning," Ecklie told him one last time before he got into his car and left.

Grissom turned back to face the group. Everyone but Sara was too far gone to go anywhere for supplies. He couldn't go alone, and he obviously couldn't send her alone. Babysitting alone was so far out of the question that it wasn't even funny. And then he got to thinking about what they'd done to the yacht when they were sober…so leaving them there alone while they were drunk- HA!

What to do, what to do…

--

Grissom and Sara had seen other people with drunks in public before, but they'd never been that embarrassed person stuck babysitting. And, boy, were they always thankful for that.

Especially now that they were those embarrassed babysitters.

Walking around the hardware store, trying to keep your eye on two drunks (Nick and Warrick passed out in the Denali halfway there, so only Greg and Catherine were left), well, it was about as far from fun as you could get. Entertaining at times, yes…but it was exhausting.

"Heeeeey," Greg cooed. "Sara?"

She closed her eyes, gave a frustrated sigh and turned to him. She opened her eyes and asked, "What?"

"You wanna screw?" he asked, holding up a gilded one.

Catherine laughed so hard that she snorted, and Grissom just rolled his eyes as he continued to push the cart further down the aisle.

"Greg," Sara said with a hand on her hip. "Just like I told you the first, second, and twenty-eighth time you asked me that…_no_, Greg, I do not want a screw. That joke stopped being funny the second time you asked it," she told him.

"You didn't stop beins hot when you changed you clothes," he said with drunken swagger.

"Get over yourself," she warned.

He laughed, "I'll get over your va-"

"Don't!" she yelled and was joined by Grissom as he stopped the cart.

"Greg, you will wake up with more than just a hangover," Grissom told him. "You may be _missing_ an eyebrow, but I know how to add things to your body, as well. Things not so easily removed. You remember that."

"Okay," he squeaked.

They continued their trip through the store, Greg never again offering Sara a screw, but he did pick up a nail gun once and offer to nail Catherine. They all found it decently funny…until a voice over the intercom called out their plate number, saying something about two men being violently ill by the vehicle.

They paid for everything they were able to get within the time they had and hurried outside. As they figured, the two men were Nick and Warrick, woken up by nature trying to cure their drunken states.

The ones that didn't look like they were dying loaded up the goods into the back and allowed Nick and Warrick to sit by the windows as they headed back to the lake. They only had to stop three times- something Grissom considered complete luck.

--

"How much for that stripper in the window?" Greg sung out, watching Catherine clean one of the portholes.

It took no time at all for her to be on his trail, chasing him from one side of the room to the other. She nearly had him, until he took off up the stairs, tripping on one or two, and off the yacht.

She chased him for about two feet on the dock when she declared, "Oh, I'm too old…or still too drunk…or too drunkenly old for this." She gave up and headed back to clean.

Making sure it was safe, Greg went back to the kitchen to finish clearing out the burnt stuff.

Laughing as she watched their interactions, Sara questioned Grissom's methods. Well, mainly just the fact that he had people that were still a little on the drunk side doing demo work, but he told her they had no choice, and she agreed.

"So…who do you think Frank is?" she asked, grabbing a few bottles and throwing them into a trash bag.

"Well," he started, but stopped to think. "You know, with this weekend just being the most brilliant example of…perfection, I'd have to put my money on Frank actually being Jimmy Hoffa."

She laughed, "Because that's who our guys would pick as their hero?"

"Because I'm obviously going to die this weekend; I'd at least like it to be done by a pro."

* * *

I know that you're all still confused as to just who Frank is. Is he your Uncle Frank? Crack dealer from down yonder Frank? Perhaps Frank is a centaur from a magical land ruled by Picasso in the afterlife that only came back to party all hard-core like with the gang. My point here is that we don't know, and we won't know. Keep him in your mind as whomever you'd like him to be. All we collectively understand is that Frank is one bad mo fo, and that's all we need. 

Spread some love on a day like today! Review!

thegreatbluespoon


	11. What You Get

Okay, so this chapter is weird. Not last chapter weird, that was just...w/e, but this just came out all sortsa different than what it was supposed to, especially after a call to TDCSI (thanks, btw).

For those of you being driven right up to the edge of insanity with all of this 'when are you gonna let 'em do it!?' business...the answer is simple- soon enough, dearies. In reading the chapters, you can probably tell we're nearing the end, and if we haven't earned that awesome M rating yet, well, we have to do it somehow, now don't we?

* * *

Sober wasn't quite the word that Sara and Grissom would use to describe anyone else on the yacht, but the state they were all in was far better now than the one they were in before. 

Grissom felt that drunks doing demolition work was bordering all right, but drunks doing construction was simply moronic, and they'd be having none of it on Ecklie's _boat_…especially if all of their careers relied on the quality of the work that was done to it.

So as the sobering time went by, Grissom and Sara continued small talk between themselves, Greg dumbly continued to make up verses to his stripper song to Catherine (when he sang 'the one with the saggity boo-oo-oobs' to himself and she overheard it, it earned him a can of soda being flung at his face), Nick…well, no one knew where Nick had went off to, and Warrick spent the time by himself, huddled over the toilet as the second wave of vomiting hit him hard.

Since Nick was missing and Warrick's body was still trying to rid itself of its stomach, the other four sat down and ate a quick dinner before they got back to work. Grissom and Sara sat next to each other in between Catherine and Greg for safety purposes and the small meal went as smoothly as one could possibly go, considering who was having it.

After they'd eaten, Nick still had yet to return, and noises rivaling that of a lion mauling a puppy were _still_ coming from the bathroom Warrick was in, so the remaining group decided to get back to work. In no way did Grissom trust Greg and Catherine to be alone together with power tools around- they were assigned to the upper deck, and he and Sara would finish things below…and no, Greg, that's not what he meant.

As soon as they got downstairs, Sara and Grissom ignored the wail that followed the smack they heard from above and went about their business; Greg would simply have to learn to keep his musical talents to himself. They took note of Greg's handy work and appreciated that he actually did what he was told. All that was left to do was patch the _giant_ hole in the wall by the stove…and then replace the stove itself since it obviously wasn't of much use anymore after having been set on holy grease fire.

Or that's what they thought.

They had been proud of Greg and his cleaning skills, had been proud of the fact that he'd done as instructed, pleased with him and the thought that he'd only left a couple of things to do in the kitchen…until they got up to the hole in the wall to measure it one last time before cutting the replacement piece and saw that he'd shoved everything he'd swept up into the wall to be sealed into it.

"I'll kill him," Grissom said in a flat tone, his arms flopping down to his sides. Reaching into the wall and pulling out a piece of one Ecklie's two thousand dollar vases, Grissom dropped it back in the wall and nodded."Yup, I'm gonna kill him."

A loud shattering noise from above canceled out Sara's original response to that and replaced it with "I think Cath's got that handled for you."

"Sara, you can be as calm as you'd like about this, but Ecklie is going to kill me. He's going to come back to his precious little boat, see that even though we fixed the big 'ol fire hole, he still hasn't got a life boat, and now there's a CSI missing! I'm dead!" he yelled.

When Sara became momentarily gutsy and assured Grissom that there was no way he was going to die anytime during that weekend in a manner that was in any way related to something nonsexual, and that that very sexual death would be caused by her, he lost all ability to speak coherently, said, "C-crack is s-seven," pointed upstairs and headed that way to get away from her before he said something really stupid.

Sara left everything in the wall, took the measurement and headed upstairs to give it, you know, the measurement, to Grissom, all the while with a smug look smeared across her face.

Looking around, she noticed that Catherine and Greg were both gone. And with Warrick preoccupied in the bathroom, he wouldn't be bothering them anytime soon.

Meaning they were alone.

Together.

With lots of sexual frustration to get rid of _somehow_.

Ooh.

Basically stalking her way over to Grissom, who was bent over in _the_ most delectable way at the saw Nick had set up on the dock pre vanishing act, she saw no blood anywhere on the deck of the yacht, so she felt no need to immediately fear for the lives of her missing co-workers. Taking all of the effort those thoughts would have taken and putting it into messing with Grissom, Sara leaned into him and whispered, "sixty-nine."

Eyes wide, Grissom shot straight up. "Excuse me!?"

Her smile somehow both innocent and smug, she repeated herself. "Sixty-nine, Griss."

"W-that…"He licked his lips, scratched his head, cleared his throat and everything else he could think of doing to pass little increments of time so that he didn't have to talk. What the hell was she expecting with everyone gone?

Well, probably the same thing he was thinking about right then, but…damn time to the fiery depths. Anyone could come back at any moment.

"Inches," she said. "Sixty-nine inches. Big, yeah?" she whispered in his ear as she leaned closer, her cheek just missing his, like it was a conspiracy that she was talking about.

"Yeah," he choked out. "Yeah, it is."

"One would think it's _too_ big."

"Yeah."

Pulling back from him, she said, "So I'm wondering if we have enough drywall."

Narrowing his eyes at her, he laughingly threatened to fire her, but she brought up the fine point that there wasn't anyone else around to help him out.

"That wasn't funny, Sara. It's massive and disgusting. Massively disgusting."

"Your face when you thought I meant sixty-nine in a whole other way was completely priceless, though," she told him.

"Yes, I'm sure it was, Sara. But you remember what happens when people tell me to do things, right?" he said in the most fantastically warning way and ran a hand gently over her once bitten shoulder before taking what he'd just cut onboard.

--

After Sara had closed her mouth and followed him onto the yacht, it took them about an hour to fix the hole in the wall. Possessing skills grand enough to put serial killers in prison, but not having those quite up there with Bob Vila, it took a few tries to get the sheet of drywall hung right, the plaster was mixed wrong, then it had to dry, and by the time it finally did (because Grissom had put too much water in it, but who cares it's for Ecklie) they realized they'd had to leave the hardware store before they'd grabbed paint.

"Warrick!" Sara yelled through the bathroom door. "Hey, buddy?"

A groan of sorts.

"Hey, we're going back to the hardware store real fast, okay? Really fast, though," she promised.

Another groan.

Not liking the sounds he was making, Sara offered to pick him up something for his stomach and he made another noise, but it was more along the lines of something approving this time.

"I'll get two bottles, just in case. Oh, and we don't know where everyone went, but if they come back, make sure no one burns anything, kills, sinks this thing, maims anyone, gets arrested, parties, drinks, eats, goes to the bathroom, breathes, blows their nose, blinks, hires a prostitute…uh, anything, you know. Hold down the fort…yacht, whatever. Later," she said, thanked him and went to join Grissom outside.

Grissom was waiting for her at the Denali on the passenger side. He opened the door for her and instinct took over, causing shy smiles on both of their faces. She climbed in and was only a little shocked when he reached in to buckle her seatbelt. He struggled with it for a minute and she thought it was sweet.

"Grissom, I'll get it."

"I can do it," he looked at her and huffed, frustrated that a couple stupid pieces of metal and plastic were kicking his ass.

He messed with it more and more and Sara just wanted to get on the road. Distraction was in order…and she still hadn't gotten her kiss. Dipping her head down a little bit, she said his name.

"What?!" he nearly yelled and snapped his head up to look at her. When he did, the top of his head smacked her nose and the blood was instant.

--

He didn't know what made him feel like a bigger idiot- the fact that he'd nearly broken her nose, or the fact that as soon as he'd gotten in the driver's seat, he looked over and Sara had her seat belt on, apparently after only one try.

She said it wasn't a big deal and didn't run back to the yacht for anything, just wiped at it with Kleenex from her purse. When she tipped her head back, Grissom stopped her and tipped it forward, telling her that the blood would just drain down her throat if she did that.

And so Sara walked into the hardware store with her face down and bloody wads of Kleenex shoved in her nose. Obviously not the most attractive look of the season, but she didn't care in the least bit…because Grissom was holding her hand.

In holding her head the way she was, Sara couldn't see everything around her, and crossing streets and parking lots like that could be dangerous, and Grissom couldn't have that, so when they pulled into the lot at the store, he hopped out, hurried around to her door, opened it for her and grabbed her hand. A couple shy smiles and a reassuring squeeze of it later and they were walking comfortably across the parking lot, hand in hand.

--

Inside the store this time was a lot different than the first time. This time was quiet; this time wasn't spent ignoring sexual overtones from half-drunk fools they were babysitting. The time was first spent as a little awkward while Grissom waited outside of the restroom for Sara so that she could check her nose. Grissom had never really spent an awful lot of his life waiting outside of ladies rooms, so protocol on the matter wasn't exactly at the front of his mind.

After Sara came out, she may have been breathing a little different, but her nose looked like it would be just fine, so they made their way through the store without incident. The rest of the time was filled with idle chitchat and Sara verbally reminding herself every ten minutes to get some kind of remedy for Warrick's poor stomach.

"Speaking of our poor fellows," Grissom said, putting items on the conveyor belt. "Where do you think the other three went?"

"Nick, I'm not sure about," Sara replied. "Greg obviously made up a verse so bad that it required his immediate departure from the yacht before it lead to his departure from this world. Because he ran away, Catherine ran after him, Griss. She can't very well have her name sullied by Greg, the guy who holds Yogi Bear as a hero. Regardless of where they went, I'm sure it's as far away from the S.S. Travesty as they could get."

"Let's hope they got that lucky," he said and paid for everything before they headed out of the store.

Once they hit the parking lot, Grissom shifted the paint can and bags all to his good hand, and took one of Sara's with his other. When she gave him an odd look, he said, "What? I may have concussed you. This is precautionary," and gave a half-shrug.

"You _concussed _me? Yeah, right," she practically giggled, "You just wanna hold my hand, Grissom."

He groaned. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Comment on things I do," he said. "Why is it that you can't just accept things from me? Why can't you accept that I'm doing this now because I'm _trying_, Sara?"

"Basking in the glory of it, I guess," she shrugged. "Because you never tried before."

"Okay…that stings," he said when they got back to the vehicle.

"Try being the one that wasn't worth the effort. That stings a hell of a lot worse."

"Well, I was talking about my hand," he held up the bandaged one. "You squeezed it a little hard…but what you said stung a little, too."

"Look, I'll stop commenting on things if you'll stop making excuses for the things you do. If you want to hold my hand, Grissom, then hold my hand. Unless you have dead whatever all over you, you don't need an excuse to touch me, Griss."

_Good to know…_

After realizing that he was staring at her because of her comment, Grissom shook his head. "Yeah…uh, c-great. That's great."

Of course she laughed at him as she helped put things in the back before they got in and headed off to get something to eat.

They stopped at the same sandwich shop, but Grissom informed Sara that it wasn't a date. She looked disheartened, but he immediately reassured her that the only reason it wasn't, was because he figured he had probably screwed up in considering their first stop there as their first date, so he wasn't about to do that again. Their second date was going to be next weekend, after all the yacht hell was over with, and it was going to be at an actual restaurant with actual menus…if she chose to accept his offer, that is.

And, of course, she did.

--

After they'd stopped and gotten some stuff for Warrick, they headed back for the horrible chunk of floating fun, only to find it still in its nearly abandoned state.

Having figured that's what they would be greeted by when they got back, neither complained as they gave the very thankful Warrick his medicine and got right to work.

After they changed, both put paper down and covered everything against the paint. Grissom filled a paint tray, then Sara got the rollers ready, and they got to work with painting. But they probably should have had two trays, because one gets crowded. And when the one gets crowded, it gets messy. When it gets messy, it gets slippery. When it got slippery, Sara ended up stepping in the entire tray of paint and falling.

Grissom laughingly helped her up and pulled her into a hug, one that she didn't let him out of, and one that he didn't care to be let out of.

Pulling back enough to look at her face, Grissom asked, "So…I get to touch you…whenever?"

"Are there people around?"

He quickly looked left to right and left again grinned. "Not a soul."

"Then pretty damn much, yeah," she breathed.

Shocked by the fact that Sara really just told him that, and that she obviously really meant it…he didn't do anything. He just took her in, studying everything about her face, which would have been enough on every other occasion, but now that he had her permission, it wasn't enough for him. It sure as hell wasn't enough for her, either.

"Griss, I'm going to-"

"Sara, don't say 'kiss.' We'll get interrupted," he warned.

With a throaty laugh, she told him, "I wasn't going to say that. I was going to tell you that I was going to shove my tongue down your throat."

"O-Oh. Oh, well, yeah. Let's do that," he grinned stupidly and nodded adamantly.

Just as she began to turn her head that little bit to make shoving her tongue down his throat possible…

"…and I said, 'Hodges, buxom is _the _worst word to describe Wen-' Oh…hey," Nick said, his conversation with Greg cut off as they stumbled in on Grissom and Sara.

Pulling apart as quickly as they could without looking suspicious, Sara pretended to have something in her eye and Grissom immediately went along with it. Greg, ever the knight in shining armor, rushed over to her to see what he could to.

"Where have you guys been?" she asked as Greg tilted her head every which way to get different lighting on her eye. "We thought you were dead, Greg."

Nick spoke first. "I found our life raft. Well, _a_ life raft. I came back and kinda stole Cath and Greg from you guys so they could help me get it."

Grissom's suspicions immediately grew. "And why does it take three people to get a life raft, _Nick_?"

"Well, Grissom, that'd be because we stole it from the old lady that told Ecklie we had whores on here," Greg said, still looking in Sara's eye. "It took three people to carry it back through the woods so that we didn't get caught. That old lady is like a _hawk_, I tell ya," he snorted through a laugh.

"So where's Catherine?"

"Upstairs. She's just taking a break right now," Nick told them. "We kinda had to use her as bait for the old man…stripper charms and what have you. But, hey, we got a life raft."

Grissom rolled his eyes and stopped the story there.

"Both of you get upstairs now and get it cleaned," he demanded. "Ecklie's going to be back here in a few hours. No screwing around."

"Sure thing, boss."

Nick and Greg left, told Catherine their orders and got to cleaning. Grissom turned back to Sara and chuckled.

"What?" she asked.

"You jinxed us."

"No, you're the one that said the word, Grissom."

"Well, neither of us just said it," he grinned.

"Well, Heaven forbid I waste an opportunity."

Just as she began to turn her head tha-

"Hey- ah, never mind!" Nick yelled down the steps.

"Oh, hell! I'm going to my room!" Grissom threw his paint covered arms in the air and took off down the hall.

"To do what?" she yelled after him.

"What do ya think?!" he yelled back.

* * *

And I totally stole that ending from _Family Guy_ because it's funny as hell and I couldn't help it. Besides, what's one more OOC thing to this story? 

Though I know I totally just pissed a lot of you off...review and some junk, puh-lease!

thegreatbluespoon


	12. Compensation

Happy Christmahanukwanzakah to all of ya. (And it's not late since holidays included are just now going. Booyah.)

A/N to Blaspheme- Fucking eat me. Your problem with me is what, exactly? Out of every author and every story on this site, you have to come after me and mine? You really have nothing better to do with your time –no abortion clinics to picket in front of, no puppies to maim, no cripple children to poke fun at- other than to come onto this site, read my fiction, and _flame_ me with your ignorance? If nothing else, _that_ is reference to how sad the world is becoming. If you must continue with these sad commentaries, then leave my friends the hell out of it. Flame me all you damn well want, but you _do not_ include my betas, friends, my readers and reviewers in them. Since you are too scared or whatever to sign in for those bashes, I can't defend even my own self, so the fact that all of them are dragged into your disillusionment and hate is bull. Whatever it is that I did to you is completely beyond me, and since you still have yet to bring it up, until you do (and based on your reviews, it better be good when you decide to), I repeat- fucking eat me.

To the rest of you that are actually incredibly awesome- You know…even though I just love all of you to squishy bits pieces for your reviews so far…I'm just not really feeling the want for the porny-porn-porn-porn, you know? Not even for the kiss. Like, I know you kinda, maybe, possibly want it…but not that much…

* * *

"Jeeee-zus!" 

"Well, you know, if you would just sit the hell still, we wouldn't be having these kinds of problems, now would we, Greg?"

"O-o-o-owww-o-ow-ow! _Getitout_!"

"I am _not_ telling you again, Greg."

"Catherine!" he groaned as he looked at her. "I know you and your strippery had something to do with this!"

She let out a disgusted sigh. "Greg, it's a_ splinter_. Get the hell over yourself."

"Cut it off!" Nick laughed and tipped his beer for emphasis before taking a drink.

Greg's eyes nearly shot out of his head. "Sara?! Sara, promise me you aren't going to cut my finger off!"

"Though I'm pretty sure you could get through the rest of your mock-adult life without a pinky, Greg, I promise not to cut it off," Sara said as she continued to prod at it with the tweezers. "Now hold _still_."

"Ohh! I think it's infected, Greggo!" Nick teased. "You know what an infection means!"

Sara scoffed, "It's been in there for all of ten minutes, Nick."

"You feel it, Greg?" Nick continued. "Building up in there? You're losing time, man. Sara better hurry up."

"Nicholas Stokes, I will take these tweezers and jam them so far up your scientific a-"

"Hey, what's goin' on?" Grissom interrupted with an odd 'my-pressure-has-just-been-relieved-due-to-my-unbelievable-imaginatory-skills' smile.

Avoiding Grissom's eyes, for she would surely pass out from laughter…or embarrassment…or lust, Sara answered, "We were all finishing up and Greg got a splinter from the mop handle. Death becomes him."

"Obviously," Grissom laughed.

Taking in the sight around him, Grissom was thrown. In the time he'd…_spent_ downstairs, the rest of the team, even Warrick, had done a damn good job at nearly finishing up the cleaning job. All of the beer containers were gone, the stereo had been wiped clean, the pile of whatever that Ecklie had stepped in had been cleaned up.

"It looks great up here."

"Thanks," she said absently as finally pulled the sliver of wood from Greg's little finger. "Got it! Go wash your hands, Greg."

"How long did it take you all to finish it?" he asked, obviously not realizing how long he'd been downstairs.

"Not that long once I got everyone to stop horsing around and actually do some work," Sara told him.

"Ah. Well, good job, all of you."

"Question for you, Bugman. Do we have to stay around for Captain Gloss to show up, or can we just duck out now?"

"That's an ignorant nickname, and you're all staying. Everyone go pack," Grissom ordered.

After everyone put away the cleaning supplies, they did as they were told and went to their rooms to prepare for leaving. But…

Catherine was pissed. Mighty pissed.

Sneaking into Greg's, and then to Nick's rooms so that Grissom and Sara would see her, she told them to meet her in Warrick's room.

"Why does Warrick have lacy panties on his floor?" Greg asked, taking note of the purple pair by the bed.

Catherine's face went pink and Warrick just told her they might as well stop trying to hide it already. "They know, Cath. Come on."

"Fine!" she yelled. "We've been screwing each other's brains out for a long time now! Happy?!"

Nick and Greg shrugged. "Whatever butters your muffin, Cath."

"_Anyway_…look, Griss and Sara still haven't even gotten a kiss in that we know of. That, that is **not **how this weekend is going to end if I have my way about things, you got me? Those two are going to go at it like sex is goddamn air, or I'll personally kill every one of you."

"Oookay. And we do this how?"

"Get your shit and get the hell off this boat," she said. "Now."

"Aye, aye," they laughed and gave her the worst salute in the history of salutes.

Within ten minutes, Grissom and Sara were unknowingly alone on the yacht…boat…they were alone on the something.

Just a'packing away, Sara was humming to herself when she figured she would go ahead and gather up all of her toiletries next.

Walking into the bathroom, her humming stopped and her mouth went dry at the sight of Grissom bent over, searching determinedly through all of the bathroom drawers for something.

God bless whatever he'd lost.

Composing herself, Sara moved to the counter and began to pack up all of her things. All of what remained after Grissom's thrash-about, anyway.

When she was nearly done, Grissom was still looking, so she asked what he was looking for.

"Sara, have you seen that glass thing I told you not to touch?"

"Oh, you mean that glass thing that, when you were talking about it, you said, 'breathe on this and I'll not only fire you, but I'll throw you off this yacht.'"

"Yeah, that."

"Of course," she said, still packing.

"Well…?"

"What?"

"I can't find it. Did you touch it?"

"Oh, well, yeah. You see, first, I breathed on it, next I licked it, and then I touched it, after that I grabbed it with both hands and threw it against the bathroom wall. Yeah, Grissom. Yeah, I did that."

"Well, you don't have to be so smart about it," he chuckled.

"Whatever." She shook her head. "Honestly, I think you broke it when you were thrashing around earlier."

He sighed, "Damn it."

"Well, maybe you didn't. Maybe you already packed it."

Giving her a doubting look, he snorted, "Yeah, because Luck's just been _real_ swell to me this weekend. Did you see that Warrick made good on his goal to puke in every closet on this thing? None of us noticed that, and now it hasn't been cleaned up. You can still see faintly see 'Frank' through Greg's fantastic paint job, too."

Rolling her eyes, Sara made her way into Grissom's room to look for it. The guy could be _such_ a baby at times.

"What are you doing?" he asked, trying, but not sounding offended at all. "That's my stuff."

"You weren't going to look, so I am," she explained. "I bet it's right here."

"I bet Greg took it. He's been borrowing everyone's things this weekend."

"Grissom, no one even knows what half of your stuff is. I highly doubt Greg took your glass…whatever-it-is."

Digging through the bag a little more, Sara let out an 'aha!' and turned to Grissom. In her hands was the item in question. "Told ya so."

"Juvenile," he laughed, took the item and put it back in the bag.

"Whine-ass," she smirked and sat on the bed. "Ooh, yours is springy," she said and bounced a little. "My bed was stiff."

"I gave you the option to pick rooms, Sara."

"Yeah, but at the time of the offer, I wanted to kick you in the head with cleats wrapped in barbed wire…so you can see why the offer didn't really carry a lot of weight."

Grissom moved his suitcase off the bed and sat next to her. "Sara, I can't tell you how sorry I am. I am probably the biggest socially inept fool you'll ever find…next to, say, a dead guy. But I'm going to try. As soon as we get away from this _revolting_ boat, I'm going to try harder with you than I've ever tried for anything in my life."

'_Suck on _that_, Whorebag McBitchface!_' Sara thought. She blinked a few times, then smiled. "Um…okay, well…I was just trying to make you laugh right then…but, yeah."

And he did laugh at that.

She joined him and classic tension filled the room.

"Sara?"

"Hmm?"

"Why haven't we been interrupted yet? We've been alone for a good twenty minutes now, we're maybe four inches apart...so, where is everyone?"

Peeking around his head to look out of a porthole, Sara took quick notice of the fact that there was one car left out the original four that had brought them all there. "Nothing like a good conspiracy to get you through the day."

Grissom turned and looked, muttered something about murder, and turned back to Sara.

"Sara?"

"How terribly cursed do you think the word 'kiss' is for us?"

"To the point that if you say it again, Baldy McGee will most likely show up, interrupt whatever you're hoping is about to happen, whatever better be about to happen, I'll cry, kill Baldy, make you help me cover the murder up, then we'll have to figure out how to get this thing out of the lake and into the ocean so we can drive it to Mexico and live happily ever after."

"That cursed, huh?" he asked, leaning into her as she leaned back.

"Yeah," she said. "Griss, we're, uh…we're not even sure everyone really is gone."

"Sure enough."

Sara's head hit his pillow and she was officially out of room to run.

Just as he began to turn his head that little bit to make kissing her possible…

He stopped.

"Grissom? Wh- what? What are you doing? What the hell? Oh, God," she groaned and threw her head back into his pillows. "Don't tell me you just decided you're gay."

"No," he laughed. "You have a point-The last, like, eight times we've tried to do this, we've been interrupted. I'm just giving anyone and everyone the opportunity to piss me off now. Just give it a minute. Conspiracy against us or not, I'm sure someone forgot something and they've got to come back for it."

"Um…okay." She smiled nervously and waited a minute. When no one showed up, she said, "Well, I don't think anyone is going to interrupt."

Not trusting just that one auspicious minute (because, seriously, why the fuck should he), Grissom waited another two. And for the first time that weekend, Sara was proven to be completely right.

Nothing happened.

No one yelled downstairs.

No one called to say that something once delicious was now ablaze.

No bald idiots showed up to ruin the fun.

Nothing at all. So, he smiled, turned his head the rest of the way…and ki-

"Ow."

Though he was genuinely concerned, Grissom's "What?" did come out with a little edge to it as he pulled back from their 'more-than-near-but-still-not-a-real-kiss' kiss.

"You hit my nose," she said, giving said part a little rub.

He sighed loudly. "Sara, this is past ridiculous."

"I know. I know, really. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" he asked, surprised. "I'm the one that bashed your nose into your face in the first place."

"True."

He gave her an unbelieving look and she burst out laughing.

"I'm kidding," she said with a schoolgirl giggle. "Turn your head more and get the hell down here already!"

That being more of an invitation than he'd ever needed then, he did as he was told.

His lips pressed to hers. Grissom was almost hasty about it, and it started as one of those I'm-fifteen-with-braces, sloppy kisses. Sara let herself follow his lead and went with it, but the feel of him looming over her with his mouth pressed to hers, it was too much.

Sara's hands roamed up his arms, across his shoulders, and down his torso. When Grissom let out the moan he had been concealing, Sara made her move. Her mouth opened and her tongue darted into his. He was somewhat surprised by her action, but the cloud of lust was quickly descending upon them. Grissom complied and as she explored his mouth, and he returned the favor.

Her hands were on a mission of their own: Operation Remove Clothing. Sara was quick to undo the button on his jeans and slide the zipper down. Then she moved up his back, under his shirt.

"Aren't we going a little fast?" he huffed, nearly out of breath.

Sara began working his shirt off. "If we stop now, sure as shit someone will interrupt."

Grissom knew they were going too fast, and that they needed to slow down, but he was under the same spell she was.

Sara could feel his need and desire for her press into her leg. She could smell the musk dripping from him, and it caused a tightening in her stomach that she had never felt before. The feel of Grissom on top of her, hard for her, was almost too much, and she involuntarily let out a deep moan of her own.

When he stood up, both of them gasped for air as if it was their first breath of life. Grissom finished pulling his shirt from his body, his chest heaving from the rush of adrenaline. Sara watched him, her own breaths ragged. Grissom went to the top of her jeans, quickly divesting her of them.

Following instinct, Sara closed her legs once her jeans were removed. Grissom gave her a sly smile and moved over her once again. This time they made short work of her shirt, leaving her lying before him in nothing but a lacy blue bra and panties.

Grissom sighed at the sight before him. "My God, you are beautiful."

Sara never broke eye contact with him as she sat up before him. He froze as she slowly and carefully slid the remainder of his clothes down his body. His erection stood at attention and she couldn't help but reach out and take it in her gentle grasp.

He gasped, and his body tightened.

She slid her hand down the shaft, and instantly the tip began to ooze. With a smile, Sara leaned over and gently blew her warm breath across the head.

Grissom sucked in a deep breath and held it.

Sara could feel him watching her, but she wasn't going to stop what she was doing now that she finally had what she wanted right in front of her. Her mouth opened and slid painfully slow over the tip.

The air he was holding in his chest was burning in him, but the feel of Sara's mouth on him was like a cool fall breeze. Grissom finally let the breath out, and his hands went to her back, caressing the silky skin. He found the clasp to her bra and in one swift move, unlatched it.

He continued to watch as her head bobbed on him several more times before it became too much. Grissom took a step back and held her with his hands. "Stop." His voice was low and desperate.

Sara smiled back up at him, when suddenly he morphed right before her eyes. His eyes turned a deep sea blue, and his pupils were as black as coal. He swiftly dipped down capturing her lips once again, only this time he was fierce and demanding like a man on the verge of losing control.

Grissom pushed her back onto the bed, his mouth devouring hers, his hands making short work of the thin lace and ripped them from her body before making the trek back up to grab hold of a breast. Sara wanted to gasp, but his mouth prevented it. She still managed to give a slight buck and press into him.

His mouth tore away from hers and found her neck. Grissom raked his teeth along the pulsing vein, his tongue leaving a wet trail of passion, until he found the waiting nub he had worked up between his fingers.

Sara's body was in overdrive, there were too many sensations and feelings pulsing through her to decipher what was caused by what. But the feel of his sucking, nipping, and worshiping her body was a high she knew wasn't caused by any drug. "Oh, God, fuck me now!" Her head was thrown back into the pillow, her mouth agape, and her breathing was staggered. She couldn't nor didn't want to stop the moans escaping her throat.

As he devoured her nipples, Grissom let his hand slip south and graze her junction. The instant his hand made contact, Sara's legs fell open to him. His fingers caressed her sex and he skillfully slipped one finger inside her. In the instant he penetrated, the wetness he encountered was mind blowing to him. He had done this to her, and now, he needed to finish her. "Mmmm, with pleasure."

Grissom broke away from her chest and quickly moved into position between her thighs. Sara's eyes opened and she watch as he placed himself at her opening, not entering, just waiting. He leaned over her, bracing himself on his arms. Knowing what was coming, her arms went to his shoulders. He looked into her eyes as his hips began to push forward. Sara sucked in her bottom lip as he began to stretch her muscles. Grissom continued pushing, his teeth gritted as he watched Sara beneath him. He knew he was causing her some discomfort, but also pleasure at the same time.

Sara's hands gripped onto him and her nails dug into his skin until he was fully sheathed by her body. "Yes…God, yes…"

He stopped briefly before pulling nearly all the way out and slowly entering her once again. She relaxed more on the second entry. "What do you want?"

She opened her eyes, her hands gripping him harder. "I don't want to walk straight for a week."

Grissom smiled. "That can be arranged."

He took in a lung full of air, pulled nearly all the way out, and thrust forward. His hips slammed into hers as he began his assault on her body. Sara continued to cling to him as his movements were pushing her up on the pillow. Her mouth fell open, instantly dry, as she moaned, groaned, and withered beneath him.

"Fuck yesssssss…" she hissed as he pounded into her.

Grissom's mind was racing as he watched Sara beneath him as he fucked her. And that's what it was; it wasn't making love, it was primal. His body fiercely and repeatedly slammed into hers. The perspiration on their bodies making the friction minimal between their skin. He attempted to remain silent, but with the feel of the one woman he had been wanting under him, taking him deep, Grissom gritted his teeth and let a deep guttural groan escape.

"Goddamn, the things you do to me, woman."

Sara couldn't open her eyes, but hearing him talk like that, this was a whole new Grissom, and she loved him. "Harder…harder…mmmm…good…good…so good. Fuck!"

He knew it wouldn't take long to reach the point of climax, but when that peak came, they were both ready. Grissom slowed his pace slightly and changed the angle of entry. Sara's eyes slammed shut and she escalated from moans to incoherent words. He was pushing as deep into her as she would allow, and every time he reached the deepest point, Sara would let out what sounded like a word.

Her body teetered on the point, he could feel her, and as he slammed into her again, he leaned down and bit her neck. Sara's body tensed and Grissom picked up the strenuous pace again while holding onto her neck. Her fingers raked across his back in an attempt to hold on, but the sweat was preventing her from getting a grip. Her body shook with adrenaline and ecstasy, squeezing him with all of her might.

As she tightened around him, Grissom released his hold on her neck and with one more hard thrust into her, released himself. Every muscle in his body became paralyzed, and he stopped deep in her as his seed pulsed into her.

Sara's body remained ridged as her high slowly wore off; Grissom practically collapsed on her from the exhaustion. He moved off of her slightly so that they were facing each other. Their breaths were still ragged, their bodies exhausted as if they had run a marathon.

"That…was _amazing_."

"Yeah!"

"I think I like conspiracies," Grissom laughed.

"I certainly have no problem with them." Moving from the bed to collect their clothes, Sara winced and said, "Damn, I said a week, Griss, not a month."

He shrugged, "Overachiever, sorry."

Unable to get her own smartass comment out before they both heard footsteps on the deck above, Sara looked at Grissom and worriedly said, "We'll talk about getting you a trophy later. Hurry up!"

Clothes were thrown on in the most haphazard fashion. Button holes were missed, zippers forgotten, hair in royal need of brushing, but neither cared because…

"What are you two still doing here?"

"Hey, Bal-Ecklie…what's, uh, what's going on? Huh?"

"Why are you two still on my yacht? And why's it so…musky in here?" he asked as he sniffed the air.

"No clue what you're talking about," Grissom said as he slid his shoe on. "But," he said, "I do feel like I should warn you, dearest Conrad, that your closets…have surprises in them."

Grabbing his suitcase up, Grissom went quickly with Sara after hers while Ecklie watched on in question.

"What?! What the hell's in my closets?! Gil? GIL?!" Ecklie yelled after them. "What the hell is in my closets?! And who the hell is Frank?! GIL!?"

* * *

And _that's_ how we earn that M rating. Massive thanks to TDCSI's filthy mind for writing all that yummy stuff up because we all know it sure as hell wasn't going to be me that did it. 

So…now that you all got what you wanted, you all have to give me what I want- Reviews. Lots and lots of them. And lots more on top of that.

thegreatbluespoon


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